The Difference Between
by Heath07
Summary: (Seth-Summer, minor appearances by Ryan-Marissa) Summer has always been a great actress, but can she keep how she feels for Seth hidden after they are forced to act together in a play? Chapter 13 is up! Complete.
1. 1

Title: The Difference Between Playing a Role and Playing the Fool

Author: Heath07

Rating: PG-13 (for now, will more than likely change to R in future chapters)

Summary: Summer/Seth -possibly minor Marissa/Ryan-- When both Seth and Summer go out for the school play, they find out acting is not so easy...especially when they're trying to act like the other doesn't matter. 

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I claim to. 

Feedback: Yes, please.

Notes: First off, I'm not sure I'm sticking with this title, so don't get attached. lol

The plot? Maybe not that original, but I decided on this bunny because, yes, I am a fan of the cliché. :) I'm not sure how often I will be updating this one because I'm also working on something else right now and I really should be writing one of the many essay's I have...  
  


_________________________  
  


Summer had to learn the hard way that playing quarters while already half-drunk was the fastest way to lose a bet. And losing a bet where the stakes were high and her reputation was on the line was the quickest way down the social ladder. If she knew that losing a bet would ultimately lead to something spectacular, she might have done it a long time ago.

--  
  


Seth couldn't say what it was about Summer that he liked. He couldn't pinpoint just one thing and he couldn't exactly recall when he first began to have feelings for her, but he knew he always had. Liking Summer had always been apart of him.   
  


What makes someone like another human being for years even after they are mean and dump on them every chance they got? Seth couldn't figure that out either. All he really knew was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get over Summer Roberts and the way things were going, she would never return his feelings.  
  


Seth sat high on top of a desk, stage right, in the auditorium, dangling his feet off the edge and humming. He was at peace with his decision to join the drama club and eager for his audition to begin. It wasn't that he was nervous--although, he was in denial about that--it was that he was pretty sure as soon as he took the stage his geek status would be cemented and stamped into everyone's mind. He was just at the cusp between nerd and techie-labels he didn't mind so much-but he knew this step would be the final nail in his never-gunna-happen-with-Summer plans.   
  


That is until Summer Roberts strutted through the curtains, wavering slightly on four inch heels, and saddled up to him. "Ew, what are you doing here?"  
  


Seth coughed and cleared his throat. "I could ask you the same thing, don't you have some poor saleswoman to torture at the mall?"  
  


"Uh, the mall? Do I look like I shop at the mall?" Summer rolled her eyes, setting her purse on the desk next to Seth's thigh. He eyed it from the corner of his eye. What the hell was Summer up to now?   
  


Seth scratched his neck and lifted his eyebrow. "Um...no?"  
  


Summer made some quiet clicking sound with her tongue and glared at him with what he could only define as gross indignation. "What's your deal?"  
  


Summer pulled out a chair and took her time painstakingly sitting down and smoothing out her impossibly short skirt and then folding her legs together. Seth watched with unwavering curiosity.  
  


"I don't have a 'deal', I'm simply trying out for the play."  
  


Plucking her purse from the table, she pulled out a nail file and began sanding down her thumb nail. "It figures you would be here with all your lame-o non-friends. I can feel my social status going down just by sitting next to you."  
  


Seth watched the next pair auditioning and felt a pang in his stomach. There weren't many people left and he knew his time was coming soon. "Why don't you move then?"   
  


Summer stopped filing long enough to shoot him a death stare. "Why don't you?"  
  


Seth's leg swung too hard and he kicked the desk underneath his butt creating a resounding vibration against his buttocks. "Ow!"   
  


"Smooth, Cohen," Summer chastised.   
  


"I was here first."  
  


"Real mature." Summer switched positions and slowly re-crossed her legs.  
  


"I thought so," Seth said, distracted by all her tan skin.  
  


"Why are you staring at me?"  
  


Seth shook his head and smirked. "I'm trying to figure out what species of bitch you are. Seriously, Summer, why are you here? Did you come here to embarrass me or what?"  
  


"As if!" The silence dragged on until she finally mumbled, "I lost a bet, okay?"  
  


"A bet?" he questioned.  
  


She waved her hand in the air, dismissing further discussion on the topic. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  


Seth was about to comment when the voice of Mr. Birdman caught his attention.  
  


"Reading for the part of Ethan, we have Seth Cohen and for Emma, we have Summer Roberts. Take the stage and show us what you've got."  
  


This was it. The moment of truth. 

  
  


This year, the play they were to perform was written by one of the students, so neither Seth nor Summer were familiar with the play.  
  


Summer stood up and faced Mr. Birdman their drama teacher and play director. "I can't read with him." She pointed to Seth and propped her hand on her upturned hip.  
  


Seth came to her side and crossed his arms in front of him, grabbing his elbows and tucking his arms against his chest. "Yeah, ditto on that one."  
  


"You're the last two," Mr. Birdman explained. "It's not going to kill you Ms. Roberts and Mr. Cohen, I would have expected better from you."  
  


"Better? Since when am I the poster child for maturity, but then again standing next to Summer, I can see why you would say that. She is, after all, a little on the juvenile side."  
  


"Shut up, Cohen," she said, swatting him with the playbill that had just been handed to her.  
  


"Ow!"  
  


"Baby," she teased.  
  


Seth held his hand up. "Fine, let's get through this, I have better things to do than argue with you all day."  
  


"Right."  
  


They went through two scenes and then each did a separate scene by themselves. Mr. Birdman seemed effectively impressed. Seth-although he would never admit it-was also impressed by Summer and her complete dedication and believability.   
  


After they were done auditioning, Seth jumped off the stage and Summer went backstage to grab her forgotten purse. Seth was barely paying attention when he felt someone creep up behind him.  
  


Devon Anderson, a tall, muscular, thespian wannabe, came behind Seth and pushed him against the auditorium door. The metal bit into Seth's back, but he didn't make a noise. He knew exactly how to deal with guys like Devon. You don't. You just ignore them and hope they'll go away leaving you in the least amount of pain possible. Because they always left you in pain.   
  


"Why are you trying out, Cohen? Is there a part for a fag or are you going to be playing one of the girls?" he said, his light eyes drilling into Seth.  
  


Seth looked down and then kept his eyes on the ground. "Heh, yeah that's a good one."  
  


"You better not get any ideas about actually getting the lead, Cohen. Everyone knows I've been the lead for the past three years and I don't intend to give that up for a spaz like you."  
  


Seth nodded. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."  
  


"Get lost, Devon!"  
  


Devon spun around, letting go of Seth. "What are you doing sticking up for a queer like Cohen, Roberts?"  
  


"That's my business, now isn't it, Anderson? Why don't you go find your girlfriend, she's probably under the bleachers with Rick Stampton again."  
  


Devon gave her a dirty look before he shoved Seth aside and stormed out the door. They both heard him mumble 'bitch' under his breath.   
  


"If I have to act opposite him I'm going to-" Summer stopped mid-sentence and her eyes roamed over Seth. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Anyway... You can't just let people talk to you like that, Seth. I thought you had more gumption than that."  
  


Her use of his actual name shocked him a bit, but he didn't let on. "I let you talk to me like that all the time." Seth tried to joke, rubbing his back.  
  


"That's different."  
  


He shrugged. "Why?"  
  


Her lips twitched and she suppressed a smile as long as she could. "Because we annoy each other all the time and you give as good as you get."  
  


"This is true," he agreed, still touching his sensitive back.  
  


"Let me see," Summer said, pulling his hand away.  
  


"I'm okay," he assured her and swatted her hand.  
  


"I'll be the judge of that," she said, and made him turn around. Summer gasped. "You're bleeding!"   
  


Seth felt her lift up his shirt and inspect his wound. "Summer, it's okay. Really. Just a scratch."  
  


"Cohen," she said, quietly, dropping his shirt.   
  


Summer looked at him and their eyes locked and held for a full minute.   
  


"That happens to you a lot?" She wasn't really asking, they both already knew the answer. "Go see the nurse, you at least need a bandaid."  
  


Seth nodded. "Yeah... Thanks Summer."  
  


Summer blushed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Cohen."  
  


"Yeah," he said, and watched her leave. Tomorrow.  


-----------------  


To be continued....


	2. 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything...

Notes: I seriously have a new respect for people that write multi-chaptered fics now. Trying to think ahead for future chapters and foreshadowing and all that crap is giving me a headache. lol Okay, not really; excuse the hyperbole, but still. I'm not sure if the pacing of this is too slow or what...or if everything is clear enough. Please review and relieve some of my insecurities or tell me if there is something I'm not doing that I should be or if I should continue at all. lol

Short ficlets are so much easier and take, like, zero time compared to this. I do apologize for the long wait; I've had a lot of schoolwork to do these past few days.

FYI: The teens are Seniors in this fic.

______________  
  


Summer pulled up to Marissa's apartment building ten minutes later than normal. She had tossed and turned all night, worrying about the play-and if she admitted it to herself, she worried about Seth as well. There was no reason for people to be so mean to him. It's not like she wasn't mean to him herself, but theirs was a friendly bantering, not stark brutality. As a result, she'd gotten less than three hours of sleep and was desperately trying to cover up the dark circles under her eyes.  
  


Nothing was going to take them away, though. She needed sleep and since she wasn't going to get that, she needed coffee, which was why she'd stopped at Starbucks even though she was running particularly late this morning.   
  


She was still applying her make-up in the rearview mirror when Marissa opened the passenger side door and got into the BMW.   
  


Summer groped for the coffee she'd picked up for Marissa and handed it to her blindly with her free hand. "Sorry I'm late, I had to hear another lecture from my father again this morning."  
  


"Thanks," Marissa said accepting the beverage. "What'd you do?"  
  


Recapping a tube of lipstick, Summer turned to face Marissa for the first time. "Let's just say daddy got the credit card statement today and didn't think a pair of Jimmy Choo's were considered an emergency."  
  


Marissa took a sip of coffee and licked her lips. "Mmm. Summer, somehow I don't think your father freaked out over just a pair of shoes."  
  


Putting the car in drive, Summer got back on the road and started on the five minute journey to school. "Okay, so maybe I bought a few outfits to go with them, but come on, what does he expect? It's not like he's around enough for me to ask for permission. It's not like I'm going to call Italy or Prague just to see if I can buy a freakin' pair of shoes; besides, it's not like I could get a hold of him even if I did call."  
  


"Sum."  
  


Summer kept her eyes on the road, not able to look at Marissa in the eye and deny that she was hurt anyway. "No, it's fine. It really didn't bother me until my step-monster got involved. Anyway, you better appreciate your present after all the crap I went through this morning."  
  


Marissa smirked. Summer caught it from the corner of her eye. "Present?"  
  


"Oh, you don't want it?" Summer asked as she pulled into the school parking lot. "'Cause collaborating with Chino to throw a kick-ass birthday party really should be present enough. I'm telling you, Coop, that boy has no taste." Summer found a parking spot and didn't even let her road rage get the best of her when a silver Mercedes cut her off and stole it. Backing up, she found another spot and eased into it. When the car finally stopped, she looked at Marissa pointedly. "It's a good thing he's hot, otherwise it would be a total wash."  
  


"Summer!" Marissa squealed. "I told you not to go to any trouble."  
  


"And like I'm going to listen?" she asked, distractedly as she searched the back seat for her purse and book bag. "Besides it gives me an opportunity to do something nice for you after everything you do for me."  
  


They both exited the car and Summer pressed the button on her key-chain for the car alarm. 

"Thanks, Summer," Marissa said, not missing the distant look in her friend's eyes. "I-Is your dad going away on business again?"  
  


"Yeah, he left this morning right after the fight. My step-mom's going to visit her sister in Manhattan and then she's meeting him in Venice. La-dee-da," Summer mocked, twirling her finger in the air.  
  


They stepped in line with each other and entered the building. "How long this time?"  
  


"Two weeks."  
  


"I'll let my dad know." It was sort of a tradition or maybe a habit that had become a tradition. Every time Summer's father went on business or on vacation-conveniently during the school year-Marissa would stay with Summer or in happier times, Summer would take up residence at the Coopers. They never really talked about it, but Marissa knew Summer hated to be alone in a big, empty house while her father went gallivanting around the world with her step-mother or his slew of mistresses.   
  


Summer visibly tensed. "You don't have to stay with me. I-I'm fine on my own."  
  


"Well, maybe I like staying with you." Marissa slung her arm around the shorter girl and smiled. 

Summer rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Right, 'cause my house is so warm and cozy."  
  


Marissa squeezed her shoulder. "We'll have fun. We always do, don't we?"  
  


"Yeah." Summer's steps slowed and she turned to face Marissa. "Are you sure, though? I know Chino hates coming over with me playing the third wheel."  
  


"Ryan doesn't mind. Maybe Seth-"  
  


"Don't go there. The last person I need to feel sorry for me is Seth Cohen and I don't think inviting him to my house is going to up my social status any."  
  


"Okay," she laughed. "I don't know what it is between you two. You know Seth is madly in love with you."  
  


"Love? Please! That boy is a stalker waiting to happen."  
  


"You're so cynical."  
  


"It's called reality, Coop."  
  


"I guess." Marissa shrugged. "I just wish you'd give Seth a chance, underneath those novelty tee's and badly combed hair, there's a real person and he cares about you."  
  


Summer rolled her eyes again. "Sure. Anyway, I have to stop by my locker; I'll meet up with you in class."  
  


"All right, see ya later." Marissa actually skipped away. Skipped! The girl was too darn cute and energetic for her own good.  
  


"Count on it," Summer called after her.   
  


Summer watched Marissa walk down the hall toward Ryan's locker. She held back her smile when Ryan caught Marissa around the waist and pulled her into a bear hug in the middle of the hall. They were so cute together, it was almost nauseating, but Marissa was happy and that made Summer happy for her. She watched as they walked off together, no doubt to find an empty classroom or closet so they could get their mack on before class started.   
  


Once she was out of sight, Summer turned around and headed for the auditorium where the cast list would be posted.

------

When Seth walked into school he had a sinking feeling that something was going to go wrong. Making his way to the bulletin board where the cast list was posted, Seth spotted Summer sitting on a bench with a blank look on her face.   
  


Seth bypassed the list and stood in front of Summer then cleared his throat. Her face was ash-white when she looked up.   
  


Seth sat down beside her and his hand hesitated over her shoulder. "Are you okay?"  
  


He strained to hear her mumbled response, bending his head to get closer. "What?"  
  


"I'm Emma," she said quietly.   
  


Seth looked at her, confused. "That's great, you got the lead. Congratulations! I think?" After a long pause, he said, "You seem upset."  
  


"You're Ethan."  
  


Seth shook his head, there was no way he got a main role. He figured at most he would get a one line or a walk-on role.   
  


"No, you must have read it wrong." He stood and moved over to the bulletin board, touching the paper with his index finger, scanning down the list to find his name. Sure enough beside his name was Ethan. "No way!"  
  


"Devon Anderson's your understudy," Summer pointed out behind him.   
  


He turned to find her close and it amazed him that he hadn't even heard her move. Oh, she was a stealth one. "Oh, so I guess you want me to drop out of the play so you can act opposite him."  
  


Summer gave an insulted laugh. "You would think that, Cohen."  
  


"I wouldn't put it past you," he said, with a false smile that was just teasing enough not to be serious.  
  


Summer grabbed her chest, going all Scarlet O'Hara dramatic on him. "Ow, that stung. Not. I'm just letting you know in case he comes looking for you."

"Huh." Seth studied her for a minute. "Well, I'll be hiding for the rest of the day. Seriously, the guy's in one local commercial and he thinks he's Al Pacino," he joked. "Oh, ever seen Scarface? 'Say hello to my little friend!'" Seth parodied, not even trying to sound like Tony Montana, just being overtly playful.   
  


"Ew! I don't want to say hello to any part of you, especially _that_ part."  
  


"Ha, that's clever," Seth humoured, then stepped closer, crowding her personal space. He bent his head and his lips just brushed the side of her temple. He felt a shudder run through her. "Trust me, little is not a word I would use to describe that part of my anatomy," he said, his voice hoarse.   
  


Summer's eyes got big and dark when he stepped back and Seth smirked when they darted to his crotch. Even though his own forwardness was a slight mystery to himself, he didn't let it show. "See something you like?"   
  


Summer's face flushed and her tongue seemed to have a hard time wrapping around words. "That is so-you are so-"  
  


"Yeah, yeah, I know: '_eww_!'" Seth mocked.  
  


She jutted out her hip and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Exactly."   
  


Seth laughed and she wrinkled up her nose. "Anyway, thanks for the heads up."  
  


Summer uncrossed her arms and visibly relaxed. "You're welcome, I guess. So... looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together, I guess I should make an appointment with my shrink because you're sure to drive me insane."  
  


"Aww Summer, you flatter me. You don't need my help you're already crazy."  
  


"Funny, Cohen. Isn't it a little early for your shtick?"  
  


A sincere smile spread across his face and his eyes sparkled. "It's never too early to try to make you smile."   
  


Summer cleared her throat and looked everywhere but at Seth. The floor was suddenly very interesting, apparently. "I better get to class, one more late slip and Mr. Hubbard is going to suspend me."  
  


"Right." He stepped back so she could pass. "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you at rehearsal this afternoon."  
  


"Oh yay! I'll be holding my breath until then."  
  


Seth smirked. "Ah, sarcasm. How rare."   
  


"Whatev." She waved him away and strutted down the hall knowing Seth was watching.   
  


---  
  


Seth took off running down the hall when the bell rang and skidded to a halt inside of the AP history classroom just as the second bell rang. He ignored the stares that came from his classmates and made his way to the seat Ryan had saved for him.   
  


"Hey, man. Did you find Marissa?" Seth asked, knowing that was the first thing Ryan always did when they got to school.  
  


Ryan grunted in response.  
  


"No, no need to be verbal on my account, caveman speak is fine with me," Seth teased, much to Ryan's chagrin.   
  


Seth's eyes darted to the teacher as he took attendance. He had a few minutes to chat before the lesson started, so he took full advantage. He nudged Ryan who had gone back to writing something in his notebook, probably another gushing love note for Marissa.   
  


Ryan finally looked over and gave him his full attention. "What?"  
  


"Okay look, I didn't tell you this because I didn't think anything was going to come of it, but now something did and it's going to take up a lot of my time, so in case you're wondering where I am, I think you should know-"  
  


"Seth, what are you talking about?"  
  


Seth took a deep breath. "I tried out for the school play."  
  


Ryan stared, unblinking, for what felt like an unnaturally long minute to Seth. "Wow... hey, that's great, man."  
  


Seth smiled sheepishly. "Really? It's not stupid?"  
  


Ryan returned the smile and punched Seth in the arm. "No, man. It's...cool."  
  


"Uh, yeah, thanks." Seth rubbed his arm, sometimes Ryan didn't know his own strength. When Ryan went back to writing, Seth casually said, "so, Summer tried out, too."  
  


Ryan gave his full attention then. "Summer? I had no idea she was interested in anything other than shopping."  
  


Seth shook his head vigorously. "Yeah, okay. I'm going to let that go, because even I can admit Summer rates pretty high on the superficial metre and you're all stressed about Marissa's birthday party and everything and you don't exactly understand the connection Summer and I have."  
  


"You two have a connection?" Ryan chided.   
  


"Ha, yeah, good one." Seth cast a sideways glance at the teacher, watched as he wrote on the board, and then looked back at Ryan. "Yeah, so we're the lead characters."  
  


Ryan snorted. "How'd that happen?"  
  


Seth rubbed his jaw. "That's what I've been asking myself. Oh and dude I'm kinda on the lam so if you see Devon Anderson around, let me know."  
  


"Who's Devon Anderson?" Ryan asked, shaking his pen when the ink refused to come out. He scribbled on the paper several time before he gave up and capped the pen, shoving it inside the empty desk.   
  


"Some dumb theatre punk who wants to beat me up for stealing his part," Seth said, pulling out a notebook and two pens. He handed one to Ryan and began copying down the information on the board.  
  


"Huh, there's even theatre bullies? Good to know."   
  


"Gee, I'm glad to see you're so concerned for my safety. Devon Anderson isn't like some regular actor, he's like a pumped up version of Keanu Reeves; yeah, we're talking bad here, we're talking Point Break bad, only he's all blonde and blue-eyed and he's pretty much crazy and, oh yeah, he wants to twist my body into a pretzel."   
  


Seth talked as he wrote, stopping when the teacher erased a portion of the chalk marks Seth had just copied down. Sticking the pen in his mouth, he ripped out the page from his notebook, oblivious to the looks of the other students he was disturbing.  
  


"You want me to beat him up?" Ryan half-joked, it wasn't the first time he'd stuck up for Seth.  
  


"Nah, Summer already tore him a new one yesterday."  
  


Ryan's shocked face was proportional to how Seth had felt in the situation. "Summer stuck up for you?"  
  


Seth tried to not let his manly pride get in the way of the endearing gesture Summer probably thought was helpful. "I know pathetic, right? But at least it's progress. I'm telling you-"  
  


Mr. O'dell turned around and gave Seth and Ryan pointed looks. "Seth, I have a class to run and unless you plan on learning through osmosis I suggest you pay attention or maybe you and Mr. Atwood would like to continue this conversation with Mr. Hubbard, hmm?"  
  


The rest of the class snickered.  
  


Seth opened and closed his mouth to deliver some witty comment, but thought better of it when Ryan kicked his foot under the table. "No, sir, that's fine. I'm done." Seth slunk down in his seat and tried to ignore the burning in his cheeks. 

--  
  


Summer walked into class marginally early--at least by her standards--and immediately spotted Marissa at the back of the classroom, a dazed look on her face. Apparently Ryan and his lips had that effect on her. Walking slowly, Summer eased into a chair and faced Marissa.  
  


"I've got bad news," Summer said, pulling her lip between her teeth.  
  


Marissa came out of her post make-out coma and turned concerned eyes to Summer. "What? What's the matter?"  
  


"It's nothing serious, relax. I completely forgot that I have detention again today and I can't go to the Crab Shack with you guys after school."  
  


"I thought you had detention yesterday?" Marissa's look said it all. Doubt.  
  


"I did. But, I uh, I smacked Dylan Fishel when he tried to grope me and Mr. Sims caught me and refused to believe me." Summer bit her lip harder this time. She was a good liar, but she hated lying to Marissa.   
  


Marissa shook her head, her Dudley Do-Right heart perked up sensing the injustice. "That's not right, you should go to the principal and complain."  
  


Summer turned her attention to the front of the class, it was easier to lie when she didn't have to look into Marissa's trusting eyes. "I don't mind. I actually have a lot of homework to catch up on."  
  


She saw Marissa nod from the corner of her eye and spent the rest of the class trying to push 

down the guilt in her belly.  
  


* * *

Ryan sank into the booth beside Marissa. He was on his break and the only thing he wanted to do was kiss Marissa and not come up for air until his fifteen minutes were up, unfortunately for him, she had other ideas.   
  


"Where's Seth?" She asked, pushing him away slightly.   
  


It was another tradition. Whenever Ryan worked a shift at the crab shack, Marissa and Seth hung out and chatted with Ryan when it got slow. Sometimes Summer would come along and they all just sort of hung out and talked without disturbing the social order that always paralysed them when they were at school.   
  


Ryan nuzzled Marissa neck and mumbled, "Seth couldn't make it, he's got rehearsal."  
  


"Rehearsal?" Marissa asked, swatting away his roaming hand that was trying to move up her bare thigh. It wasn't that she was a prude, but PDA's were not a good thing when the actions couldn't be completed and she didn't want to start anything they couldn't finish.  
  


Ryan got the hint and pulled away. "Oh yeah, you don't know. Seth got the lead in the school play."  
  


"He did?" Marissa's eyes got wide with disbelief. "I had no idea he was even interested in acting."  
  


"Me either," he said, trying to keep his hands to himself.  
  


"Wow, good for him. Summer couldn't make it either, she's got detention."  
  


"Detention?" Ryan asked, sneaking in a kiss. "Seth said Summer was in the play with him."  
  


Marissa broke away from his grasp and laughed. "What?! Summer? No way."  
  


"Seth said she got the lead." Ryan shrugged. "She didn't tell you?"  
  


Marissa slouched against the back of the booth. "No. Why would she lie?"  
  


Ryan took her hand under the table and interlaced their fingers. "Maybe she's embarrassed." He touched her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.   
  


"Maybe. I just don't get it."  
  


"Summer plays things pretty close to the chest, she'll tell you when she's ready," Ryan said, moving his hand to play with Marissa's hair, letting the strands sift through his fingers.  
  


They hadn't been able to have a lot of alone time together lately. Jimmy was always home at Marissa's and the Cohens had since instituted a 'no girls' policy in the pool house after Kirsten walked in on them again in an even more compromising position. There was no way Ryan could deny what they had been doing when they were both naked and under the covers waiting for the earth to swallow them up.   
  


Occasionally Sandy covered up for them; he wasn't as concerned as Kirsten seemed to be. It probably also had to do with the fact that he'd taken Ryan to the pharmacy himself and watched over him as he purchase a box of condoms. Sandy said that if Ryan had been mature enough to do that, while he watched no less, than he was mature enough to make his own decisions and that he trusted his judgement. But even so, they just couldn't find the time and space. Marissa was busy with student council and between Ryan's job at the Crab Shack and soccer there was little time left for nookie before the 'rents got home.  
  


"Anyway, Enough about them, let's talk about you. The big party is coming up, you excited?"   
  


Marissa kissed his cheek. She let her voice drop as she spoke huskily into his ear. "Let's see a huge party for me with a bunch of friends or a night alone with my boyfriend? Hmm?"   
  


Ryan smiled. "It won't be that bad; Summer went to a lot of trouble. Besides, I have a surprise."  
  


"What is it?" she asked, snatching his earlobe between her teeth.  
  


Ryan inhaled sharply. "You'll have to wait until your birthday to see."  
  


The manager came out from the back and tapped his watch impatiently. "Ryan, your fifteen are up."   
  


Ryan disentangled himself from Marissa and stood. "I've got to go."  
  


Marissa nodded and started pulling out her books to get some homework done while she waited for his shift to be over.

__________

The day seemed to drag on; Seth was looking forward to stretch his acting muscles and, more importantly, spend time with Summer, so he was glad when the final bell rang.   
  


Entering the auditorium, Seth side-stepped Devon's crew of friends and immediately spotted Summer on stage, her legs dangling over the edge, her nose in the script. He stood still, watching her before she looked up and met his eyes. Hustling over to her, he jogged up the steps and plopped himself down beside her.   
  


"Miss me?" he asked, nudging her side.  
  


"Like I miss the flu," she retorted.  
  


"Oh, I see how it is, you're in denial, I get that. I know it's a little too scary to admit how much I drive you wild, and I'm probably overwhelming you right now with my presence-"  
  


"Are you on medication? Because I think I can scrounge up a nice reality pill for you."  
  


Seth laughed, he had to give her props for that one. "Very nice. You know, Summer, you're always keeping me on my toes, I like that about you."  
  


"I'm sure you do," she teased, shoving him.   
  


Seth hissed Summer's face lost all humour and her hand instinctively went to his back. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"  
  


"It's fine," he dismissed, embarrassed. "I'm just going to go over there." He pointed to a group of set props that included some plush chairs and a couch.  
  


When he went to stand, Summer grabbed his arm. "Hang on, help me up and I'll go with you."

Seth nodded and held out his hand. Summer held it and her face reddened when she realized they were being watched by the rest of the students who were in the play. "Everyone is so nosy," she whispered under her breath.   
  


"I take it you're not used to this kind of staring. I mean, I know people must stare at you all the time, because like, you're beautiful, but they don't look at you this way."  
  


Her eyebrow quirked in question. "What way?"  
  


"Like they're wondering what you're doing talking to me."  
  


"Let them wonder," she said and took his hand.   
  


Took his hand! Seth blinked making sure he wasn't dreaming. It must have been around the same time Summer realized what she did because she dropped his hand and walked quicker. Seth stopped walking altogether, bending down and scooping up her script that she didn't seem to noticed she'd dropped. 

Summer sat down on the couch with her legs crossed under her and smoothed the hair from her face.   
  


Seth examined her flushed cheeks and they way she avoided looking at him. He took a deep breath. It was always one step forward, two steps back with her. Dragging his feet, he sat at the opposite end of the couch and tossed her script into her lap. She looked startled when it hit her knee and bounced onto the floor.   
  


"You dropped it," he offered and opened his own loosely bound copy.   
  


Reaching down, she grasped it in her hands and folded it open over her legs. "Thanks."  
  


Seth shrugged and continued to read the play, highlighting his lines.   
  


Summer leafed through the script scoffing and snorting and making snide little comments at all the parts she thought were unrealistic and cheesy. "This play is crap. Who writes this shit?"  
  


Seth took the play from her hands and flipped it shut, pointing out the name on the front page. "Aiden Wilson."  
  


"Who?" she asked, snatching it back.  
  


"He's a junior. He won an award last year for this play at the Young Playwrights Association's annual gala," he finished, aware of Summer's questioning glare. "Or so I'm told," he recovered.  
  


"Well, I don't care if he won the Winston Cup, the play is still crap."  
  


"You frighten me with your highly accurate references and the nonchalance with which you 

expel them."  
  


"Shut it, Cohen."  
  


Throwing his script down, Seth angled his body so one leg was tucked under him and faced Summer. "You know, I read once that there's only six real plots and we just recycle them in different ways thus making millions of different stories. See, you can take your basic girl meets boy/boy falls in love with girl/girl treats boy like crap, plot line and you can put on a decent play--basic right?   
  


Well, then you add a little twist. Something like, girl is prone to rage blackouts and bouts of toxic personality syndrome and can only be cured by massive amounts of fondling and kissing and it shakes the whole thing up."  
  


Summer moved her body so it mimicked Seth's. "Did that all make sense in your head? 'Cause you lost me after the whole six plots thing."  
  


"Apparently, yes. A lot of things make more sense in my head, like why I bother trying." Seth half-heartedly picked his script back up and moved so he was sitting naturally.   
  


"You're not going to pout are you?" Summer asked, coyly.  
  


Seth smiled despite himself. "I might, I've been told I have quite the irresistible pout. I only really break it out for special occasions -you know, on account of how powerful it is."  
  


"It's not that cute." And with that, Summer just admitted, in a roundabout way, that in some shape or form she did find it cute.  
  


An uncomfortable silence followed.  
  


The play director, Mr. Birdman, had been held up in a staff meeting for twenty minutes longer than he'd expected and when he finally came in most people were restless.  
  


Seth was grateful for the distraction, though.   
  


"All right, I thought we'd start with act two. Seth, Summer, why don't you two take the stage?"  
  


Summer stood and followed Seth who was already halfway to the middle of the stage. Finally standing next to Seth, her script open, she raised her hand.  
  


"I didn't ask a question Ms. Roberts." Mr. Birdman gave a big, jolly laugh.   
  


Seth cocked his head to the side and thought, idly, what a good Santa he'd make. He shook his head and tried to focus.   
  


"I have a problem with act two. Can we work on something else today?"  
  


Seth opened his book and flipped to the section everyone was so eager to discuss. Reading the first few lines and then the stage directions, he surmised quickly what Summer's problem was.  
  


Mr. Birdman wet his thumb and turned the pages of his own play. "What exactly do you have a problem with?"  
  


"Specifically?" She shifted her weight and looked around at all the faces in the auditorium.   
  


"Well, yes," he answered, pushing up his glasses. "What specifically is wrong with act two?"  
  


"The kiss," Seth interrupted before Summer got a chance to say it. "She doesn't want to do the kiss...and neither do I, actually," he said, hoping to save face. He could feel Summer's eyes burning his skin; he wouldn't look at her.   
  


"Well, I suppose we can skip it for today, but come performance time, there's no way of getting out of it. You two understand that, right?" he said, looking between the pair.   
  


Seth nodded, no witty comeback stinging his tongue.   
  


"Of course," Summer answered, trying to catch Seth's eye but he refused to look at her.   
  


"Okay then, now that that's clear. Seth, why don't you start. From the top, people." Mr. Birdman brought the script close to his face and read, "Ethan follows Emma onto the terrace and grabs her by the shoulders. Then the kiss, which we're skipping, take it from there. Go ahead," he prompted.  
  


Seth awkwardly held onto Summer's shoulders and read from his script that was propped in one hand. "'Why are you doing this to me, Emma?'"  
  


Summer broke away and turned. "'It's for the best.' Wait, hold up," Summer said, breaking out of character.   
  


"What now, Miss Roberts?" Mr. Birdman asked, slowly bringing his large girth up the stairs that led to the stage.  
  


"I don't get it," she said, simply.  
  


Seth folded his arms and smirked; Summer always needed an explanation for everything, it really was annoying. Only he wasn't annoyed and it would be so much easier if he was. A lot of things would be easier if he had predictable reactions to Summer's moods, which he never did.  
  


Mr. Birdman huffed, clearly she was testing the man's patience. "Get what?"  
  


Summer rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. "Why Emma is being all stubborn, it's obvious she loves Ethan, so why is she fighting it so hard?"  
  


"Heh! Maybe she's afraid the cool kids will think she has a heart and ice queens aren't supposed to have hearts, are they?" Seth piped up, barely conscious of the fact he was speaking.  
  


"Well, I think-" Mr. Birdman began only to be interrupted.   
  


"Or maybe Ethan is just a big loser who thinks he's much funnier than he is," Summer retorted, seemingly unaware of her raised voice or her pointed look at Seth.  
  


"That's not really-"  
  


Seth took a step closer. "Or maybe Emma is a spoiled little rich girl whose always gotten everything she's always wanted and can't sacrifice her reputation for something she really wants no matter how much she tells herself she doesn't."  
  


"Okay, I think you two have gotten off track, let's just try-"  
  


"Or maybe Ethan doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does." Summer took a step forward, her chin pointed defiantly at Seth.  
  


"Or maybe-"  
  


"That's enough! If you two think you can control yourselves, continue with the next line," Mr. Birdman urged, then looking between them, he changed his mind. "Let's just move on. Try act three."  
  


"Fine by me."  
  


"Ditto."

--------  
  


Practice lasted an hour and a half so, in total, Seth had been at the school two hours extra. He'd told Ryan to pick him up an hour ago and knowing Ryan he'd probably gotten tired of waiting and taken off or else was too busy with Marissa to remember in the first place. Seth checked his watch again, then remembered Ryan's shift started half an hour ago and unless he sent Marissa, Seth would have to walk home. Grabbing a few books from his locker, Seth loaded his backpack and headed for the parking lot. Doing a quick scan, he didn't see the car, so he started to walk home.   
  


He was five feet off of school grounds when he heard a car honk behind him. His heart began to pound fast and a previously drowned fear began to resurface. If it was Devon, he was sure he would be walking with a limp or worse, when he was done. When he turned around and saw Summer behind the wheel of her black BMW smiling with the sun in her eyes, relief washed over him.   
  


"Get in or get off the road, Cohen," she called to him.  
  


Seth stood still for a minute before he registered that his knees were shaking and he wasn't moving. Slightly embarrassed, he pulled himself together and walked over to Summer's car, opening the door and getting into the leather passenger seat.  
  


"Thanks."  
  


"What, did Chino forget about you?" Summer asked as they pulled onto the street.   
  


Unbelievable, she was pretending their little fight on stage hadn't happened. It was typical of their whole relationship or non-relationship or whatever one wanted to categorise it as.   
  


"I guess," Seth mumbled. "He's probably sucking face with Marissa."  
  


Summer reached over and opened the glove compartment, seeking out a pair of sunglasses while trying to pay attention to the road. "Yeah, those two are disgustingly adorable, aren't they?"  
  


Seth grabbed the glasses and handed them to her. The more Summer focussed on the road the less likely he would end up dead and that was always a plus.  
  


"So, Summer--not that I don't appreciate it--but what made you pick me up?"  
  


Summer pushed the hair from her face with a swing of her head and placed the glasses over her eyes. "You're skinny enough, Cohen, the last thing we need is for you to walk off any critical pounds. I didn't want to be held responsible when they found your skeleton."  
  


Seth smirked. "So are you saying you'd care if I died?"  
  


"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer. It might surprise you to learn that I'd even feel bad if Chino bit the dust."  
  


Seth chuckled, looking out the window.   
  


Summer stopped the car at the bottom of the Cohen driveway and turned her attention to Seth. Seeing him reach for the door handle, she flipped the automatic locks. "You know about the party for Coop, right?" she asked, looking nervous.   
  


Seth, who had been attempting to open the door, turned to face her. "Sure, Ryan invited-" Seth stopped, maybe Summer didn't want him there. "Sure."   
  


"You're going to go?" she asked.  
  


He nodded.  
  


"Well, I guess I wouldn't mind if you were there," she said, genuinely sincere.  
  


Seth smiled broadly. "Yeah?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Think you'd mind if I saved you a dance?"  
  


Summer unlocked the doors. "Don't push it, Cohen."  
  


"Right. See you Saturday, Summer," he said and got out. Seth was halfway up the driveway when she peeled out down the street. He turned around and smiled. 

* * *

To be continued..... 


	3. 3

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. :( 

Notes: There are some really sappy moments in this one, so be prepared. lol

The reviews have been so awesome. Thank you so much for the encouragement and believing in me. I seriously appreciate it. 

________________________________

One thing that could never be disputed about Summer Roberts was that she knew how to throw a good party. And she didn't just put things together at the last minute, she planned and planned until Ryan thought he was going to have to shake her to get her to stay still.   
  


Summer had spent weeks planning the perfect party for her best friend and brought Ryan along for the ride. He'd helped, but his suggestions didn't always go well with Summer, though she never really criticized them outright, not that he would have minded. Party planning wasn't exactly something he did in Chino. A few kegs and bags of snacks and he was good to go, but this wasn't Chino, this was Newport and in Newport party planning was serious business.   
  


Summer finished tying a banner across the stairs and looked over her shoulder, motioning for Ryan to hand her the tape. "Where's Cohen? I thought he said he was coming with you?"   
  


Ryan smirked listening to Summer try to dance around the subject like she wasn't interested. "He'll be here later," he answered, handing over the scotch tape. "He got held up at home. Oh, and he told me to remind you that you owe him a dance."  
  


Summer laughed, despite herself. "That smart-ass."  
  


"So Seth told me you got the lead in the school play."  
  


"He did?" she asked, keeping her back to him so he couldn't read her expression.  
  


"Yeah. I, uh, didn't know you were into the whole drama club thing."  
  


"I'm not. Not really," she said, climbing off the small step-ladder and grabbing a few balloons.   
  


"Yeah, that's what Marissa said." Ryan looked at her pointedly.   
  


"You told Marissa? Oh well, I guess she was bound to find out sooner or later. It's not a big deal or anything."  
  


Another one of Ryan's trademark soul-searching looks was directed at Summer. She hated those looks, she always feel so exposed. "If it's not a big deal, why did you try to hide it from her?"  
  


Summer taped up one balloon distractedly. "I didn't set out to hide it... I don't know, it's weird. Do you think she's mad that I lied to her?"  
  


"Nah, she thought it was cute."  
  


"Cute? Ew!" Summer shrugged. "I guess there could be worse things to do with my time."  
  


Ryan smiled.   
  


Summer set down the tape and remaining balloons. She faced Ryan and shifted her weight. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "You know, you make her happy. I mean, really happy."  
  


Ryan's cheeks reddened and his eyes searched the floor.   
  


Summer smiled warmly. "I guess I approve...even if you do come from Chino. 'Cause, like, _ew_!"   
  


They were silent for a minute. Ryan began to gather the leftover balloons and crate paper when Summer cleared her throat behind him.  
  


"I know we just had a moment there or whatever--and let's hope that doesn't happen again for a long time--but you do know that if you ever hurt her, I'd hunt you down and make sure you could never reproduce, right?"  
  


"I don't doubt it," Ryan replied, a smile playing on his lips that matched Summer's.  
  


"Great, now get out of my house, I still have to get changed and call the caterers and you have to go pick up Marissa and when you come back, don't be wearing that." She pointed to his open button-down shirt and novelty tee. "You have been spending _way_ too much time with Cohen."  
  


Ryan cocked his head to the side and smirked. "I'm not the only one." He made a mad dash to the door and ducked the wad of crate paper Summer flung at his head. He was still chuckling when she slammed the front door behind him.   
  


_________________

Ryan pulled into the Roberts' driveway and cut the engine of the Range Rover. All the lights were on and inside they could see gyrating bodies and balloons and steamers. Ryan let out a long breath and faced Marissa. "Here we are, I guess."   
  


Marissa grabbed Ryan's hand and squeezed. "I think I'm nervous," she confided.  
  


Ryan shook his head, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "About what? It's just a birthday party."  
  


"I know," she said simply.  
  


"We could skip it," Ryan suggested. In truth all he wanted was to ditch the party altogether and bring her back to the pool house and make love for the rest of the night, but Summer would kill him if he did that, after all her hard work planning and executing the perfect social event of the year, and as much as they got on each other's nerves, he just couldn't do that to her.  
  


"No we can't," she said, sighing and opening her door. Ryan got out of his side and met her at the hood of the car, taking up her hand again.   
  


He gave her The Look. The one that was utterly adorable and usually got her to do anything he wanted at the time.  
  


Marissa giggled and shook her head. "Don't do that, you know I can't resist The look."  
  


"I know," he smirked. "That's why I'm using it."  
  


"Sorry pal, it's not going to work this time," she berated, playfully.  
  


Ryan nodded and brought her hand to his mouth to lay a gently kiss on her fingertips. "We're not going to stay long, right?"  
  


Marissa shrugged. "It won't kill you."  
  


"Another night spent in Summer's company and I might just hang myself," Ryan mumbled under his breath.  
  


"What was that?" Marissa asked, her lips curving into a smile.  
  


"Nothing," Ryan covered, following her up the steps when she tugged his hand.   
  


"One hour and we'll go," Marissa promised before she kissed his cheek and walked through the front door. 

________________

Marissa and Ryan had yet to show up and Summer was having a hard time recognizing all the people in her house. Apparently she'd gone a little overboard with the invites. She searched the crowd for a familiar face and just as she was giving up hope, a familiar face found her.  
  


Seth tapped Summer on the shoulder and she spun around.   
  


"Whoa. Summer, you're looking dazzling as usual." Seth eyes twinkled and he looked at her the way he always did, with a hint of admiration and something else she couldn't quite admit to. No one looked at her the way Seth did and it made her feel uneasy and cherished at the same time. It was just too much.  
  


For a minute, she lost the ability to speak. Why was it that Seth Cohen of all people could do that to her?  
  


"I see you showed up after all," she said, once she'd recovered.  
  


Seth leaned against the stair railing and folded one foot over the other. "Wouldn't miss it. I still have a spot for you on my dance card if you're interested."  
  


Summer tried to hide her smile when he momentarily lost his balance and teetered, grabbing hold of the railing to stay upright. "Don't get your hopes up, Cohen. Besides, who says dance card? What're you eighty?"  
  


Seth tapped his finger on his bottom lip and then pursed both lips together, bringing Summer's attention to them. Her gaze didn't waver as he spoke and she wondered if that had been his intention. "In the grand scheme of things that expression might seem a bit outdated, but if you really think about it it's really rather endearing and instead of mocking me, you should be taking me up on my offer 'cause I just might find someone else to dance with and then where will you be?"   
  


Summer had been barely paying attention, her mind was still on his lips, but she clued in at the last moment and remembered that it was Seth Cohen she was checking out. That piece of reality seemed to give her the snark she needed to strike him down once again. "Probably right here. Relieved."  
  


Seth leaned forward, his lips dangerously close. "Keep telling yourself that, sweet pea, 'cause I know deep down...okay, way deep down," he relented when he met her glacial stare. "In the deep depths of your frozen heart there's a tiny blue flame just a'burnin' for yours truly."  
  


"If that's what you need to tell yourself..." she commented dryly. She was about to spit another insult at him when Marissa came barrelling through the door, Ryan by her side, as always.   
  


"Happy Birthday," she offered, pulling Marissa into a tight hug. Ryan and Seth exchanged a look.   
  


Marissa stepped back from the embrace, still gripping Summer's shoulders and examined the shorter girl. She whistled and made Summer do a little turn. "You look hot, who're you trying to impress?" Marissa teased.  
  


"No one," Summer said, her cheeks flushed. She looked over her shoulder and was relieved to find Seth had moved out of hearing range.  
  


"Ryan, my man. Beer?" Seth chimed in, snagging Ryan around the shoulder and leading him away towards the booze.   
  


Marissa watched Seth lead Ryan away and Summer didn't miss the fondness in her eyes.   
  


Summer bit her lip. "You really love him, don't you?"  
  


Marissa tore her eyes from Ryan's retreated form and smiled, her cheeks reddening. That was all the answer Summer needed.   
  


"It's different than it was with Luke. You're different with him," Summer pointed out, studying her friend closely.  
  


"He makes me feel like I can do anything and the way he looks at me like-"

"You're the most precious thing in the world." Summer finished for her.  
  


Marissa smiled broadly, pulling her hair away from her face, her cheeks red from a mixture of embarrassment and passion. "Yeah, how'd you know?"  
  


"I, uh, I have eyes, Coop," Summer stammered.  
  


Marissa nodded. "We must make you sick, I know you hate mushy stuff."  
  


Summer's back went up. "I don't hate mushy stuff-"  
  


Marissa rolled her eyes. "Oh please, every time Ryan and I are around, you looked like you're being tortured."  
  


"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say I don't hate mushy stuff, I just hate watching the two of you trying to devour each other every chance you get. Really, it disgusting and unhygienic. Ew!"  
  


"Just wait, Sum, one day you'll be eating your words."  
  


Summer didn't bother to come up with some witty response. There was no use trying to argue when Marissa's head was in the clouds over Ryan. 

________

Ryan was sitting on the couch bored out of his mind when Marissa plopped herself down in his lap, none too gently. He let out a low rumble of disapproval before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. "You ready to go," he asked, nuzzling her neck.   
  


"Already?" she asked, turning to face him, creating some very intense friction on Ryan's crotch.  
  


Ryan held her shoulders to keep her still. "Are you drunk?"  
  


"No," Marissa giggled. "I've had two drinks. I'm not drunk, but I'm feeling good."  
  


"You do feel good," he joked, running his fingers up her spine just under her shirt. "The Cohens went away this weekend and Seth promised to make himself scarce. I thought maybe-"

Marissa got the hint and leaned down to kiss him on the mouth.   
  


He closed his eyes and brought her closer before he realized they were in a very public area and he didn't exactly feel like sharing such a private moment. "So you want to go?"  
  


Marissa began to nod, but then remembered the plans she'd made earlier that week. Summer's stepmother had left that morning so she was now totally alone. "I can't, Summer's dad is away and-"  
  


Ryan's disappointment showed on his face. Marissa was about to open her mouth to apologise but Summer's voice stopped her. "Coop, go."  
  


"No, Sum." Marissa held Ryan's thigh for leverage as she stood. Neither of them had been aware of Summer's presence or just how much she'd heard and Marissa felt guilty for even considering leaving her alone when she knew what a difficult time Summer had when she had to stay in the house alone.  
  


Summer jutted out her hip and pointed to herself. "I'll take it as a personal offense if you don't get your cute butt out of here and go to the Cohen pool house and make mad monkey love all night long."  
  


Marissa turned helplessly between Ryan, who was all for the idea, and Summer, who looked absolutely terrified even as she made the suggestion. "A-Are you going to be okay?"  
  


Summer folded her arms in front of her and shrugged. "It's just one night. I can stay alone for one night." She grabbed Ryan's arm and hauled him off the couch, then pulled Marissa and him toward the door. "Now, go. Have fun and be safe."  
  


Marissa gave Summer a tight hug and stepped outside. Ryan waited a second and smiled at Summer. "Thanks."  
  


"Remember what I said, Chino," Summer cautioned. "I know people and they'd never find the body."  
  


Ryan tensed and then walked out the door before he caught the slight smile on Summer's face. She closed the door behind them and looked at all the bodies that were still taking up residence in her house. It was going to be a long night.   
  


She passed the table of gifts that Marissa hadn't opened and pulled out the neatly wrapped box she'd spent the morning perfecting, took a long look at it and tossed it back on the pile.   
  


Finding her way to the kitchen, Summer grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a swing straight from it. It burned as it went down and she lost her breath for a second. She sputtered before she took another long pull and walked away, carrying it with her. Jack would be her friend for the night, he'd helped her out before; they were old pals.

* * *

Back at the pool house, Ryan had attempted to recreate some Harlequin moment by lighting candles and dimming the lights. He'd even stolen champagne from the main house and put on some soothing music.   
  


It felt odd and Marissa told him as much. "This is really sweet, Ryan, but it's so not us. Well, maybe it's me, but it's not you." It just wasn't his thing, but it touched her that he was trying so hard.  
  


"Too cheesy?" he asked, scrunching up his nose. "I knew it was going overboard," he admitted, blowing out the candles and flicking off the music, but not bothering to turn up the lights. "Better?" he asked, sitting back down beside her on the bed.  
  


"Much," she said kissing him at the corner of his mouth.   
  


Marissa noticed his shaking hands, the slight dim in his eyes when he made brief eye contact and tried not to let it unnerve her.  
  


He cleared his throat and pulled out a box from under his pillow. "Back in Chino we never really had a lot of money, but birthdays were always a big deal because every year we were just that much closer to eighteen and getting out of the place."   
  


Marissa nodded and turned her attention to the box he was showing at her like it was on fire.  
  


"Here." He handed her the box and looked around the room seemingly uncomfortable. When she opened the lid and pulled out his a pocket watch, he began a tangent that could rival one of Seth's babbles any day. " I almost had to hawk it a few times and it's kind of old and probably not worth that much anyway, but it was my grandpa's; he gave it to me before he died, before everything went really bad with my family; before dad went to jail and mom's drinking got worse... I dunno, it always kinda reminded me of being happy and now... It's kinda stupid and it's not really a good girl gift, but-"  
  


"No, I love it," she assured him quickly, weighing the significance in her palm.   
  


Relief clouded his eyes and then he was pulling her against him, kissing her. His mouth covered hers and it was hot and wet and dizzying.   
  


She hadn't kissed a lot of people, just Luke and him, and they were nothing alike. Where Luke was sloppy and immature and maybe a little too gentle, Ryan kissed her deep, passionately and at times desperately with his lips and teeth and tongue.  
  


The hot friction of his tongue as it caught her skin and swabbed at its softness was almost overpowering. He knew what to do to her body. How to make her skin burn and her hips raise in anticipation. He knew when to go fast and when to go slow, where to touch and for how long.   
  


Easing them down onto the mattress, his hips ground into hers and she let out a low moan that made him chuckle. Her fingers tangled with the cotton of his shirt, lifting it over his head and tossing it to the floor.   
  


His tongue continued to explore skin that was already alive and ultra sensitive.   
  


"Ryan," she whimpered and it sounded like a strangled cry, like not being together would be the end of the world for her.   
  


Ryan sensed this and instead of drawing it out, making her wait, he made love to her in earnest as if she might slip through his fingers and be out of his life for good.  
  


____________________  
  


Seth found the beach soothing. The waves lapped against the sand and the stars littered the sky; it was all very peaceful. He cradled a beer in one hand for no apparent reason except for maybe his lame attempt to fit in. He didn't feel much like socializing and there was only so much Marissa and Ryan he could take for one night, so he took comfort in the sand and the silence.   
  


That was of course, until he heard arguing behind him. Standing he squinted to make out the figures outside by the sliding glass doors. It appeared to be a guy and a girl arguing. When the taller figure grabbed a hold of the smaller one and they seemed to be struggling, Seth paid closer attention.  
  


"No! I told you no!" Seth heard a familiar voice scream and he was throwing down his beer and running toward the house before he could think rationally.   
  


The rush of adrenaline that had him by Summer's side in no time flat was apparently unneeded though as he stood over Trent Jefferson as he moaned in pain. Seth winced at the large goose egg sprouting from where he'd been apparently hit.   
  


Summer threw the empty Jack Daniels bottle on the ground next to the barely conscious teen. "I told you not to touch me," she seethed, her legs giving out on her once the heat of the moment had worn off.  
  


Seth caught her around the waist and pulled her against him. "Summer, what are you doing out here?"  
  


"I needed some air. He-he followed me," she answered against his rib cage, pointing blindly, unable to hold herself up. He got a whiff of her breath and surmised that she was tanked.   
  


"Come on, party's over," he whispered, ushering her inside her own house.   
  


He was surprised to find only a few stray guests left and he wondered, briefly, how long he'd really been outside before he politely asked them to leave. Spotting a few guys from the wrestling team, he cautiously approached them and asked them if they could get rid of Trent from the backyard, when Summer chimed in with a muffled 'please' they agreed and got to it.   
  


"Do you think you can make it up the stairs?" he asked, gently pushing the hair from her face so he could get a good look at the condition she was in.  
  


She looked up at him and it almost broke his heart. Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. "I think he was going to-I think he wanted to-"   
  


He felt her shudder and felt a pang in his belly. "Shh," he soothed, running his fingers over her back in slow circles. "You're okay. You sure know how to take care of yourself. You're like a superwoman."  
  


Summer rubbed her nose against his shirt and Seth didn't even have the heart to scold her for it. "I just-I don't understand," Summer tried, inarticulately.   
  


"Guys are assholes," Seth said, reflectively.   
  


Summer's head shot up from his shoulder and she laughed. "You're a guy."  
  


"This is true," Seth humoured, forcing her up the stairs one at a time. When she wobbled slightly, he held her tighter and she giggled when he tickled her by accident.  
  


"You're not an asshole though."  
  


Seth nodded, not sure how to respond. He finally settled on a simple,"Thanks."  
  


"You're a dork, but not an asshole," she continued as if he hadn't spoken at all. Summer stopped mid-stair and looked up at Seth. "I'm not always like this."  
  


Seth looked back at her puzzled. "Like what?"  
  


Her head fell back against his shoulder and she sighed audibly. "I don't always drink like this, just... you know, Marissa left with Ryan and my dad...he's not...I don't like to be alone."  
  


"I know," he said quietly and kissed the top of her head.   
  


"You do?" Her head shot up connecting with his chin and he swallowed a few curse words.   
  


Seth adjusted his jaw and shook his head, resuming their slow walk up the stairs. "Come on, let's get you to bed."  
  


Summer snorted very un-lady like. "In your dreams, Cohen."  
  


Seth smirked, thankful they had reached the top landing. "Only you could still put me down when you're three sheets to the wind and about to pass out."  
  


"It's a gift." Summer teetered and grabbed hold of his hand to stop herself from falling. "Uh, the room is spinning."  
  


"Come on, we're almost there. Which one is your room?" he asked scanning the drafty hallway with a row of closed doors.   
  


Summer pointed in the general vicinity at the end of the hall and Seth guided her toward it. He reached for the door handle and propped her up against himself when it wouldn't budge. "It's locked."  
  


"That's 'cause that's daddy's study," she explained breaking into a fit of laughter like it was the funniest thing in the world. "My room is downstairs."  
  


"You're kidding, right?" he asked, incredulously.  
  


Summer seemed to sober, if only for a moment. "Nope. I sleep in what's supposed to be the maid's quarters."  
  


Seth blinked rapidly and studied her. "What? Why?"  
  


Summer shrugged, which was difficult considered how heavily she was leaning against him. "I like it better. It's actually cozy down there."  
  


"Jesus, you're never going to make it back down those stairs. Are all the rooms up here locked?"  
  


"I don't know, I don't come up here."  
  


"Great," Seth said, exhausted.   
  


Summer was starting to slouch and her eyes were drooping with sleep. Seth propped her against the door. "Just stay here and try not to fall," he ordered and began to methodically check all the doors on that floor. With no luck, he turned and caught Summer just before she hit the floor. "They're all locked. That's just weird," he said aloud, more to himself than her.  
  


Summer's eyes were closed and he was fairly certain she'd fallen asleep if her even breathing was any indication. Without further adieu, Seth crouched low to the ground and scooped Summer into a fireman's lift and headed for the stairs. It took a lot of his strength and he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't drop her, but she couldn't sleep in the hallway for the rest of the night and he couldn't come up with a better solution.   
  


Halfway down the stairs Summer decided to wake up.   
  


"Oh my god! Seth?"  
  


"Shh, go back to sleep," he commanded, straining with her weight, if he had to hold a conversation too, he wasn't sure he would make it to the bottom.  
  


"Put me down!"   
  


"I can't right now, sugar, gotta get off the stairs first," he said, winded.  
  


She grabbed his belt and tried to yank it to get a response, but the only thing that did was cause him to sway. "Seth, put me down!"  
  


"I can't."  
  


She tugged harder on his belt and he moved faster. His face contorted when she switched to his underwear and gave his a gnarly wedgie. "Seth, you have to put me down. Now!"  
  


"Could you, like, not touch my underwear? God, I never thought I'd be saying that to you," he said, chastising himself with a shake of his head.   
  


"Seth," she whined, more screechy than normal.  
  


Seth stepped off the last stair and bent down dropping her ungracefully to the first soft surface he saw, which happened to be a couch. Summer rolled off and bolted. "You're welcome," he called after her and then regretted it when he heard her retching in the bathroom. "Shit."  
  


Seth stepped into the bathroom kneeling next to Summer and carefully pulled her hair away from her face. His other hand rubbed at the small of her back until she was finished throwing up.   
  


When she flushed the toilet, he reached over and handed her a roll of toilet paper. She wiped her mouth, but refused to meet his eyes. Realizing he was still touching her, he pulled his hand back and sat up, leaning over the counter and filling a Dixie cup with water. He handed her the cup and she drank greedily and handed it back. He filled it again, but when he went to hand it back, she doubled over the toilet again and he set it on the sink as he took up his previous position.   
  


He murmured soothing words against her neck and leaned over to flush for her. Her face was white as soap when she finally looked up at him and it struck him hard. "Hey, you okay?"  
  


She was silent for a long time, so he busied himself with finding a washcloth. In the linen cabinet he found a plain white facecloth and ran it under the cool water. He urged her forward and pressed it against her forehead and cheeks before he let it rest against the base of her neck.

"Better?" he asked softly, aware that she still hadn't answered him.   
  


Summer covered her eyes with her forearm and let her head roll back and gently rest against the porcelain tub. "You're the last person I wanted to see me like this."  
  


"Really? I thought the captain of the football team would be more worthy of that honour."  
  


"I'mamess," she answered, slurring slightly.  
  


Seth touched her knee and squeezed. "No, hey, everyone gets a little drunk every now and then. You just seem to do it more than most, unless we count Marissa pre Ryan, 'cause hello she's a little bit of a glutton when it comes to the Vodka," Seth rambled.  
  


Her head popped up and the washcloth fell to the floor. "I'm not drunk!"  
  


Seth rolled his eyes. "No, of course not. I was talking about the other girl puking her brains out."  
  


Summer laughed hard, so hard he was afraid she was going to choke, apparently she wasn't as sobered up as he'd hoped.  
  


"Want some more water?" he offered.  
  


Her nose scrunched up and she frowned. "I'm tired, Cohen. _So_ tired," she mumbled through a yawn.  
  


"Come on," he said, standing and offering her his hand.  
  


"Can't you carry me again?" she complained.  
  


"Sorry, sweetie, but I think I'm going to have to go to the chiropractor as it is."  
  


"Wuss."  
  


"Ah, you really know the way to a man's heart."  
  


"Help me up."  
  


Seth reached under her arms and let her lean on him while she got her footing. They stumbled down the hallway together and found Summer's room, which was just off the kitchen.  
  


Seth turned on the light, but Summer immediately turned it off and headed to her personal bathroom. He sat down on the bottom of her bed and listened to the water running. He heard her puke again, but when he came to her side, she was already spreading toothpaste over her toothbrush and getting ready to brush her teeth.   
  


"Uh, privacy?"   
  


"Uh, no, yeah, sorry," Seth said, backing out of the bathroom.   
  


While she was in the bathroom, he took the time to study her room. There were a few metals from track and basketball on the wall from when they were in middle school and he studied them before he moved on and picked up random bottles of perfume and little trinkets from her dresser and desk. Scanning the room again, one wall caught his eye. There was an entire wall of photos, mostly of people from school; people he'd grown up with but had never even talked to and there were others. Black and whites of flowers and birds and nature. Sepia prints of random people: a man tossing a ball with a child, an older woman trying to prevent the wind from taking her hat, schoolchildren playing hopscotch and various other people, none of which he recognized. It was when he was looking at pictures that Summer came back into the room, looking a little worse for wear.   
  


"You okay?"  
  


"Fine," she answered, crawling onto the bed and arranging herself in a fetal position, clutching her stomach.   
  


"All right," he said, casually. "I'm going to go now. You should take some aspirin so you won't feel as bad tomorrow, at least that's what I've heard."  
  


Summer sat up, looking panicked. "You're leaving?"  
  


Seth scratched his head, his gaze straying to the door. "Well, yeah."  
  


Summer jumped off the bed, much to her stomachs disapproval, if the look on her face was any indication. "You wanted to dance, let's dance now," she said, grabbing his hands and propping them on her hips.  
  


Seth looked at her sceptically. "Oh, now you want to dance? Sorry, that offer expired at midnight." He let his hands drop to his sides and backed away.  
  


"Cohen," she whined, pouting and apparently he wasn't the only one with a knock-out pout.   
  


"As tempting as that is, I really have to go."  
  


Summer lunged for Seth and before he could protest her lips were on his and she was pushing him over to the bed. Her lips were hot and she tasted like mint toothpaste and a little bit like sour alcohol. She let her tongue skim his bottom lip before it delved inside his mouth and touched his own tongue.   
  


Seth broke away breathless and held her away. "You just kissed me," he pointed out as if she hadn't been there.  
  


Summer plopped down on the bed and put her head in her hands. "Oh God, I'm even drunker than I thought."  
  


"I thought you weren't drunk?" he teased.  
  


"You're _so_ not helping, Cohen."  
  


Seth folded his arms and shook his head. "I'm not buying any of this, you know."  
  


Summer kneeled on the bed, a sex-kitten waiting to pounce. "What? Don't you want me? In case you didn't get the memo, I'm one hot piece of ass."  
  


Seth scanned her physique appraisingly. "Believe me, I know it, but really, you don't want to do this. Not with me, and not when you're drunk, so what's going on?"  
  


Summer reached over and grabbed the collar of his polo shirt in both of her hands, forcing him to lean over and grab the pole of her bed for leverage. "But I do! I really do, Cohen. You're just so...mmm," she giggled. "Even with your t-shirts and that god-awful hair," she mussed his hair to emphasize her point, "but god, I do want you."  
  


Seth released her hands and laughed nervously. Those were not words he heard everyday and especially not from Summer of all people. "You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying."  
  


Summer reached her hands under his shirt and began to pull it off. "Take this off."  
  


"Oh, no no no." Seth pulled her hands out from under his shirt and held them over her head so they couldn't touch him. "Let's just keep our hands to ourselves, 'kay? Summer, come on, the truth now, what's really going on?"  
  


Summer's featured darkened, her eyes misted. "Nothing."  
  


"Stop lying. Something is definitely going on. You wouldn't just kiss me and not get all grossed out by it, that just doesn't happen in my reality."  
  


Summer's eyes dropped, her lip trembled slightly. "It's not like I didn't want to kiss you, I just...not in front of all those people, you know?"  
  


Seth didn't know what to say to that. She was talking about Act two and practice the other day.   
  


He watched her gaze slide to his mouth, caught the sharp inhale of breath before her eyes met his again. And holy crap, what was that?   
  


Touching her, he decided, was not a good idea. He let her hands drop and sat down beside her.   
  


He was not going to interpret her actions or overanalyse, he was just going to be a really good friend and ignore the way her hand was rubbing against his thigh because she was drunk and that was the only reason that such actions would be happening. But that didn't mean he couldn't almost feel the kiss, taste it in the air when she moved forward. Oh, he felt it all right, the air was charged with it. He stood up abruptly and she fell forward, face down, onto the bed giggling and rubbing her forehead.   
  


"Cohen, that was so, like, not suave."  
  


"Well, you know, that's good, 'cause I really wasn't going for suave. I'm basically trying to just keep you from doing something you're going to regret. You might not mind hating me in the morning, but I sure as hell do. Now, I think it's best if I just go and you just have a nice little rest in that very big bed." Seth turned to leave but her voice stopped him.  
  


"Don't leave," she whispered. "Please. I-I don't want to be alone."  
  


And if his heart hadn't been breaking for her since he found her drunk, that just did it. Seth turned and swallowed her up in a hug when he saw a tear roll down her cheek. He really couldn't help himself and he knew in the morning Summer was going to kill him for it, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.  
  


"I'll stay then," he soothed, sliding his fingers through her hair.   
  


Seth held her for a good ten minutes before he felt drained and didn't want to stand any longer. When he pulled away she murmured a protest. Seth smirked, even if she was drunk, it still felt good that she didn't mind him touching her.  
  


"Do you have something to sleep in, pajamas or something?"  
  


"Check the top drawer," she answered, sleepily.   
  


Seth crossed the room and opened the first drawer taken aback by all the frilly underwear. "Other drawer, got it," he mentally kicked himself for the some shred of glee that filled him. Pulling out a pair of silky pajamas, he held them up for her approval. "These okay?"  
  


Summer nodded and dropped her head back to the comforter.   
  


Seth tried to shut the door but something kept getting in the way. Shifting things around, he spotted a frame and brought it out into the moonlight coming from the open blinds. 

He brought the picture over to Summer and sat down next to her. "Who's this?" he asked, studying the obviously old picture in the pewter frame.  
  


Summer didn't need to look at it to know what it was. "That's my mom," she answered so quiet he barely made it out. "She was my age there." Her fingers brushed his when she took the frame from him and set it on her night table. "She was a dancer," Summer said, her eyes closed, "she was the youngest in her company. They toured Europe. That's how she met my father. He was there on business."   
  


"Yeah?" He looked at the picture on the table, realizing for the first time Summer's mom was in tights and a tutu like women wear in the ballet.   
  


Summer yawned again and stretched out, letting her legs come to rest in Seth's lap. "It ruined her figure when she had me."  
  


Seth frowned, picking up her foot, discarding her sandal and gently massaging her heel.   
  


"People tell me I look like her. She was _very_ beautiful, " she went on, drifting in and out of sleep. 

Seth picked up her other foot and gave it the same treatment. "She was," Seth agreed, adding, "but so are you."  
  


"I'm not like her," Summer protested. "She was slender and statuesque and I'm so short and curvy."  
  


Seth laughed softly. "I wouldn't want you any other way, even if you did cause me to throw out my back...of course that could be because I have, like, no muscles," he said, self-deprecating. Seth didn't exactly know all the details about Summer's mom, but he knew that she wasn't in her life anymore and that couldn't be easy on her. As much as Summer tried to act tough, he knew deep down she was as soft and sweet as a marshmallow.  
  


"Seth?" she asked, even as she was being lulled to sleep.  
  


"Hmm?"  
  


"Can you help me put on my pajamas, I don't think I can move."  
  


Seth swallowed hard. "Summer, I don't think... "  
  


She sat up and grabbed the pajamas from him. "Fine," she said, pulling her shirt over her head in one fluid motion.   
  


"What are you doing?" Seth asked, standing, causing her legs to swing over the edge and her to almost fall off the bed. He reached out tentatively to help her sit up.   
  


"Duh, changing," she said, once she'd regained her position.  
  


Seth turned around and allowed her privacy. Despite himself he felt his body react and he willed it to stop.  
  


"What are you doing?" She asked in turn when she caught him adjusting his boxers.  
  


Seth didn't turn around. "Not that it's any of your business, but since you are the one responsible, I'm fixing my underwear. At least I know how girls feel about thongs now."  
  


"Ew!" she said, only half-heartedly and not with nearly enough venom as usual.  
  


"Done?"  
  


Summer examined herself and nodded and of course Seth couldn't see that so he repeated himself. "Yeah," she finally answered.   
  


Seth turned around cautiously and chuckled as he looked her over. Motor skills were not functioning at the right level for Summer and she had done up the buttons all wrong. Seth decided to take mercy on her. Kneeling, he undid the buttons to her shirt and redid each one so they matched the appropriate holes, holding his breath the entire time.   
  


"Thanks," Summer said, her voice unusually tender.   
  


Seth shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, no problem."  
  


"You can, you know... sleep in my bed." She didn't look at him as she made that suggestion.   
  


Seth blinked in the darkness and took a deep, cleansing breath. "Uh, actually I think I'm safer in the chair. Really, it's fine."  
  


"I..." she hesitated, "I'd feel safer if... _please_."  
  


Not the please. Anything but please would have had him sleeping the night in the chair no matter how uncomfortable it would have been and for all the kinks he would surely have in his neck. When Summer said please in that small voice though, that was it. He was done for.  
  


Seth took of his shoes and tossed them at the foot of the bed. Lifting the covers, he moved her legs so they were under the blankets and moved to get in beside her.   
  


"You're sleeping in your jeans?"  
  


Seth shrugged. "I guess."  
  


"Take them off."  
  


Seth's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"  
  


"They can't be comfortable and we're just sleeping."  
  


Seth cleared his throat. "You sure?"  
  


Summer nodded and watched as his hands went to his belt buckle. A sudden wave of self-consciousness flooded him and he turned away and let the jeans drop to the floor, leaving him in blue boxers. He hopped into bed and nearly jolted upright when he felt Summer's weight on his chest. She nuzzled against him and let out a contented sigh.   
  


"Seth?"

Seth's hand wasn't steady when he smoothed her hair away from her face, it trembled more when he cupped her cheek and drew her close. He pressed his lips to her temple and made her eyes blur. "Go to sleep, Summer."  
  


Her voice was unsteady when she spoke. "You're not going to leave, right?"  
  


"No, I'll be here."  
  


"I don't like to be alone," she announced sleepily as if she hadn't confided it before then, which she had, but probably couldn't remember. He hoped that meant she wouldn't remember much of the night tomorrow, it was the only way he wouldn't get his ass kicked.   
  


"I know." His fingers tangled in her hair again and he felt her shiver when he brushed her ear, so he pulled her closer, revelling in the feel of her. "Summer?"  
  


"Hmm?"  
  


He bit his lip and closed his eyes. "Promise you won't hate me in the morning?"  
  


"I won't." She sighed and drifted off to sleep. 

______

To be continued.... 


	4. 4

Thank you everyone who left me feedback. I forgot to answer some questions from last time. I was planning to have Seth and Summer rehearse outside of school and I still do, but I often change my mind or get sidetracked, so we'll see. 

Regarding updates: I don't generally have a set plan on how often I update. I guess whenever I have the time, I will work on it, especially since the reviews have been positive. It really inspires me when I know people are reading and liking what they read. A multi-chaptered fic is a real stretch for me. lol

______

Kids are blunt. They say what's on their minds. Somewhere along the way people lose that as they grow up. Grown-ups, teenagers, really humanity in general, are always censoring themselves. But when you're drunk...it seems to all come back. Drunk, people feel things, do things they normally wouldn't. The urge to suppress their base instincts is lost. There's no such thing as a lying drunk.  
  


Too bad it doesn't stay that way.

__

Summer woke to the feeling of warmth. Stretching she realized she was lying in someone's arms. Slowly, as not to wake the stranger, she eased up on her elbows and was surprised to find Seth's impossibly long eyelashes resting against his cheek and a half-smile playing on his lips.   
  


The first thing she expected was anger, but when she looked at him she just couldn't manage it. She considered pushing him out of bed, but she was still too drunk and too comfortable to give it a second thought. They fit together perfectly, like two parts to a whole. God, she was drunk.  
  


"Seth," she whispered groggily, trying to make sense of it all. Her head was pounding and she still felt tired. Leaning over, she traced her fingers over his lips. He stirred slightly, so she pulled her hand back and held her breath.   
  


The clock by her bedside table read 3:40 a.m. She didn't even remember how she'd gotten to bed, let alone how Seth had ended up beside her.   
  


The urge to kiss him was strong. She didn't know why she felt that way and had she been sober, she never would have acted on it. When she saw he was still asleep, she licked her lips and laid a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth and another over his closed eyes. She couldn't understand why she'd slept so well; why it felt like she was so safe. She hadn't slept that deeply and soundly ...well, she couldn't remember how long it had been. Probably before her mother decided to up and abandon her and before her father married some random whore and left her to raise herself.   
  


Some time between her brief reflection on her life Seth had woken up, or maybe he was never really asleep at all, and was staring at her warily. Her heart beat sped.  
  


She opened her mouth to speak. "What-" 

Seth cut her off with his fingers on her lips. His hand rubbed her back, pushing her back down so she was resting on his chest again.  
  


"You promised you wouldn't hate me," Seth said, his voice thick with sleep.  
  


Her eyes felt heavy and her heart slowed.   
  


"You're okay," he assured her, rubbing lazy circles on her back through her nightclothes. "Go to sleep, it's still early."  
  


Sleep sounded good. Everything sounded good when Seth said it lately. For reasons she wasn't prepared to deal with yet she felt good, protected. Summer wrapped her arm around him again and snuggled against his chest and was asleep within seconds.

____________

The first thing Seth realized when he woke up was that he was not alone, the second thing he noticed sent warning bells through his body. He tried to move Summer off of him so she wouldn't feel it, but she refused to budge. She was dead weight against his chest and pressing against his lower body who was very much awake.  
  


It's not like he planned to wake up with an erection, but all things considered he couldn't exactly blame his body. And it wasn't like he hadn't woken up a million times before the same way, this time shouldn't be any different, but there was one major exception: Summer Roberts pressed against him.   
  


Nudging her again, she stirred.   
  


"Summer," he called softly.  
  


He watched her face and saw as her eyes opened and she blinked against the sunlight. Her eyes shifted to his face and a look of horror clouded her eyes.   
  


Seth could see her pulse jump in her neck and had to bite the inside of his cheek.

She shifted. "Oh God, did we?" There was an edge to her voice that made him cringe. Gone was the somewhat sweet, vulnerable Summer of the night before and he didn't want to think about how often she woke up in the arms of strangers just like this asking that question. Just the idea made his stomach turn.  
  


He was still hoping to God she hadn't noticed his erection, that he barely clued in that she hadn't stopped asking questions of a similar nature. "What? Oh, no." Her sharp look prompted him to explain further. "You, uh, you threw up and I sorta undressed you...well no, that's not true, you undressed yourself, I just did up the buttons," he stopped, that did not sound as innocent as it was. He put up his hands to defend himself in case she got violent, because you could never really tell when one of her rage blackouts came on. "Nothing happened, I swear."  
  


"You sure?" She pulled the covers up around her and a wave of guilt hit him hard.   
  


"Positive. Could you...?" Summer shifted coming into dangerously close contact with his groin. "Oh Jesus, no Summer, don't...uh, just stay-" When she shifted again, he had no doubt she felt it.  
  


"Oh."  
  


"Yeah," he said, closing his eyes beyond embarrassed.  
  


Instead of recoiling faster than the speed of light and screaming at the top of her lungs, Summer surprised him by simply rolling off of him and slumping against the pillows on her side of the bed.  
  


"Seth."  
  


"Sorry," he offered, afraid to look at her.   
  


Summer ran her hands over her face, blinked. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?" She sounded confused and drained.  
  


"You don't remember anything from last night?"  
  


"No. Not a thing. Now tell me before I smother you with this pillow," she said in a whisper that was far scarier than if she had screamed at him. She picked up an embroidered pillow for emphasis. "Now, Cohen."  
  


Seth moved around trying to get comfortable but it was kind of hard with a tent in his boxers and Summer's watchful eye following his every move. "Hey, you promised not to hate me. That sounded very hostile."  
  


Summer's eyes narrowed. "What?"  
  


Seth let out a nervous laugh. "Huh, so you don't remember anything then? You want the long version or is the condensed one okay with you?"  
  


Summer's lips tightened. "Stop playing around and just tell me."  
  


"Okay, so I found you outside with Trent-"  
  


"Trent Jefferson?" she asked, rubbing her temples. "What the hell was I doing with Trent?"  
  


"Well, I don't think you purposely set out to canoodle with him." Summer arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What? Canoodle's a perfectly good word."  
  


"Shut up and get on with it."   
  


She closed her eyes for a split second and held her stomach. Seth was afraid she was going to get sick again, but when she opened her eyes and glared at him, he didn't think his sympathy would go over well with her, so he continued.   
  


"I think he followed you," he said, shrugging. "At least that's what you said when I got to you."  
  


"What does that mean?" she asked, her discomfort clearly evident.   
  


Seth shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. "It doesn't matter. Let's just say Trent's going to have a nifty little headache for a few days."  
  


"You hit him?"  
  


"No, you did. With a bottle of Jack Daniels," he added, for clarification.   
  


Summer's eyes grew wide, her stomach lurched and gurgled.   
  


Seth ignored it, fearing the repercussions. "Anyway, by that time you were way past drunk, so I helped you upstairs only to discover that all the doors were locked. Why is that by the way?"  
  


Summer rolled her eyes, her nose wrinkling in the cutest of ways. Seth tried not to notice. "Do you know how much trouble I would have gotten in if someone messed up my Dad's study or tapped into my step-mom's pill collection?"  
  


Seth snapped his fingers and tapped the side of his head. "Ah, I gotcha."  
  


"So then what happened?"  
  


"Then I carried you down the stairs where you proceeded to throw-up and then we got to your room, you changed with a slight--emphasis on slight--assist by me and went to bed. End of story."  
  


"And how did you end up in bed with me?"  
  


"Ah, well that was your suggestion."   
  


Summer was about to respond when she faintly heard someone calling her name. She bolted upright and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. She pulled on his arm and tried to toss him out of bed. "Oh God, that's Marissa. Hide!"  
  


"Where?" he asked, scrambling for his jeans while holding a pillow to his front.   
  


Summer panicked, her eyes skirting to the pillow and back to his face. "Uh, in the closet. Go!"  
  


Seth bounced around the room with his jeans around his ankles and the pillow still covering himself up. Summer opened the closet door and ushered him inside.  
  


"My shoes."  
  


"What?"  
  


"Get my shoes, they're by the bed."  
  


"Summer?" Marissa's voice came from the kitchen, very close to her bedroom.  
  


"Ah, just a minute. Don't make a noise," she warned Seth and closed the door. She heard a clatter and smirked.  
  


Rushing over to the other side of the bed, she used her foot to push Seth's shoes under it.  
  


Seth slumped down in the closet, holding his tongue when something poked him in the butt. "Son of..." he mouthed, lifting what he realized was a painting, when he held it to the crack of light coming into the closet. He examined the portrait and was impressed. At the bottom he noticed Summer's signature and his brows knitted in confusion. Crouching down, he picked up more photos, some framed, some not and more paintings alongside art supplies. Summer was an...artist? Huh.

--

Marissa stepped through the door and studied Summer with her head cocked to the side. "Hey!"  
  


"Marissa!" Summer chirped much too cheerily.  
  


Marissa's eyes narrowed. "What the heck were you doing?"  
  


"Hmm? What do you mean?" She answered trying to act normal. It wasn't everyday she stuffed Seth Cohen in her closet.   
  


"I called, like, five times. When you didn't answer the phone, I got worried."  
  


Summer mumbled something to herself, then answered, "I didn't hear the phone."  
  


Seth perked up from his place in the closet. He had been busy digesting all the paintings and pictures, so he had barely paid attention to the conversation. He hadn't heard the phone either. 

He removed the pillow and was grateful that he was not longer painfully excited. Seth peeked through the small opening in the large closet and could clearly see both girls.  
  


"What were you doing just now?" Marissa asked, looking around the room. "I heard noise and voices."  
  


"Uh yeah, probably just the radio. I was just exercising." She grabbed a small, two pound hand weight from the floor and began to lift it for emphasis.  
  


"Exercising?" Marissa asked dubiously.   
  


Seth smiled, Summer was usually such a flawless liar, but that one even seemed unbelievable to him. Summer hated to sweat and get all grungy, something a best friend would know.   
  


"Mmm-hmm."  
  


"Okay," Marissa said slowly. "Listen, I'm sorry I bailed on you last night. I know you worked really hard, but Ryan-"  
  


"Was more important?" Summer asked bitterly, setting down the weight, having proven her point and rubbing her temples.   
  


Marissa touched Summer's shoulder gently, preventing her from turning away. "No, Sum. No. That's not it at all. How can you even think that?"  
  


Summer shook her hand off and went about straightening her bed, giving up when a wave of dizziness hit her. "Forget it. I'm just grumpy. I had a little too much to drink last night."  
  


Both girls were silent for a long time, before Marissa relieved the tension. "Was it okay? Being here alone, I mean."  
  


Summer cleared her throat, looked Marissa straight in the eye and lied. "It was fine. No trouble at all."  
  


Seth bit his lip. Summer was always being brave like that, taking on more than she could handle and not letting anyone in. Not ever showing weakness. Except she had last night, to him.  
  


Seth caught Marissa's broad smile and he suddenly felt sick. She wasn't the most perceptive friend in the world.   
  


"Great. I mean, that's good 'cause I sort of told Ryan that I'd stay with him again tonight since the Cohens won't be back until Monday."  
  


Seth felt his pulse race and a slow trickle of anger flow through his body. How could Marissa be that insensitive? Especially when she knew Summer hated to be alone.  
  


"You what?" Summer gasped, her voice coming out shaky like she was being deprived of oxygen. Apparently he and Summer were on the same wavelength.   
  


"Or I could stay with you," Marissa backpedalled. "Really, it's not a big deal."  
  


Summer closed her eyes, waved her hand in the air in some grand gesture of sacrifice. "No, no forget it. I'm being stupid. Stay with Ryan, I'll be okay."  
  


"You sure? I could just call-"  
  


Seth watched as Summer's eyes hardened. "Coop, I said it was fine. Look, I have to take a shower and then see how much damage has been done to my house."  
  


"Do you want me to stay and help?"  
  


Summer's eyes darted to the closet. Seth couldn't be sure, but he thought she briefly made eye contact. "No! I mean, no, it's fine."   
  


"I'll call you later," Marissa offered, and it sounded like an empty gesture to Seth.  
  


Summer nodded and followed as far as the door.   
  


From his place in the closet, Seth heard the click-click of Marissa's heels as she made her way through the house and then he didn't hear anything. Seth didn't move. Partly because his leg had fallen asleep and partly because he just didn't know what to say.  
  


Despite the protest from his legs, Seth stood, pins and needles shooting through him. The closet door was not so easy to open from the inside and he found himself stumbling out, knocking several canvases onto Summer's bedroom floor. Reaching down, he pulled up his pants and stretched.   
  


Summer sat on the bed, her breathing heavy and her shoulders shaking. Seth careful made a path through the artwork and appeared at her side.   
  


"Are you...?" His lips couldn't seem to form the word 'crying' and he knew Summer would only resent him if he said it out loud, so he let the question hang in the air. He always felt so helpless when girls cried.  
  


Summer looked up, her face red and splotchy, her nose runny and her eyes wet. "No!" She immediately put her head back down and refused to look at him.  
  


He was afraid to touch her, afraid of what she would do or say now that she was sober and thinking clearly. Seth kneeled down in front of her, ducking his head so he could catch her eye. "Why'd you do that?"  
  


She rubbed her nose with the back of her pajama sleeve. "Do what?"  
  


"Lie to her. Summer you were a wreck last night," Seth's voice was low. He was trying to sound comforting, not accusatory but wasn't sure whether he pulled it off.   
  


Summer covered her face with her hands. "Shut up, Cohen. You don't know what you're talking about."   
  


Seth gently, very gently, rested his hand over one of Summer's and pulled it away from her face. "Yeah, uh, except that I do. I was there. I saw you freaking out."  
  


Summer tried to release her hand, but he held on tighter. "I told you to shut up," she whispered.  
  


"God, you're shaking," he observed.  
  


"I-I'm-"  
  


"Fine?" he mocked. "You're not fine, Summer."  
  


"I know," she said meekly.   
  


"C'mere." With little coaxing, Summer let herself be folded into Seth's arms. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, letting her warm tears fall. "I don't know why, but you're sacred to be alone," he stated the obvious, lightly touching strands of her hair and letting them fall from his fingers. "Listen," he said, pulling away so he could look at her. He cradled her face in his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs, "I feel an obligation to stay."  
  


Summer sniffed, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't want your pity."  
  


Seth cupped her chin, making them lock eyes. He smiled a little lopsided. "Okay, so obligation was the wrong word."  
  


"Seth," she sighed, blowing out a long breath.   
  


Seth let his thumb gently brush against her cheek, a soothing gesture. "This is what we'll do. I'll go home-you can come with me if you want or you can stay here-and I'll get a change of clothes, clean up a bit and then we'll come back here, watch some movies and just veg out. Think you can be like broccoli?"  
  


Summer rubbed her nose and tried not to smile. "Broccoli? Ew!" she tried, but there was no real effort, it sounded forced.   
  


"So, it's a plan?"  
  


Summer closed her eyes. "I-I don't know."  
  


Seth sighed. "If you're worried about people finding out, I'm not going to tell anyone. After this weekend we can go back to how we were. I'll be the guy that annoys you and you'll be the girl that hates me."  
  


"I don't hate you," she said, defensive. Seth let go of her and she moved away, crossing her legs on the bed.   
  


Seth was stunned by that revelation. "Okay, well, uh, yeah whatever. Do we have a deal? Everything goes back to the way it was on Monday, okay?"  
  


"You won't say anything to anyone?" She didn't sound like she believed him. It stung Seth that she was actually into the deal and wanted his full participation. Baby steps, he reminded himself.  
  


Seth nodded. "My lips are sealed. Aside from the play, we will have zero contact. If you want, you can even insult me publicly."  
  


Summer wiped her eyes. "Okay, deal. Seth-"  
  


"No need. I know. Why don't you take a nice long bath and I'll start cleaning up."  
  


"You don't have to do that."  
  


"I want to," he said, standing. "And hey, if you need someone to wash your back-"  
  


Summer swatted him playfully and hopped down from the bed. "Cohen!"  
  


Seth turned and watched her walk toward the bathroom. "Kidding. A guy can dream, can't he?"  
  


"Yeah, well, keep dreaming, buddy. 'Cause it's never gunna happen."  
  


"Never say never," Seth teased. Summer closed the door in reply. 

Seth looked at the door for a full minute before he turned and walked out of the room. Entering the kitchen, he cleared some of the plastic cups and beer bottles from around the stove and sink. Aside from a few stains and upturned furniture, the house really didn't look that bad.   
  


When his stomach groaned, he decided it would be better to eat first and clean later. After all, what good could he do on an empty stomach?  
  


Looking through the refrigerator and freezer, he decided there was enough selection to make a satisfactory meal. 

--  
  


Summer ran the water hot, shed her clothes and stepped into the tub. She closed her eyes and sank into the warmth. A smile kept forming on her lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. Who would have thought that Seth Cohen, of all people, could make her that happy? Probably the same people who thought Marissa would always be a good friend. Summer frowned at the thought. It wasn't that she was jealous of her relationship with Ryan, it was just that Marissa knew how much she hated to be alone when her Dad was away. That should have mattered. It should have been more important. Feeling tears sting her eyes again, Summer decided to not think about it and focus on relaxing.  
  


Summer must have been in the bathroom almost an hour when she decided she was ready to face her life again. How could she have cried like that in front of Seth? She never cried, and especially not in front of anyone. On the upside, her headache was gone.   
  


Standing in front of the mirror, Summer applied her make-up with skill, then stopped, looking at herself. It dawned on her that there was no one to impress. So then why was she getting all primped? Shaking her head, she didn't allow herself to think any further on the subject.   
  


Something smelled good and though her stomach still wasn't too strong after all the throwing up she'd done the night before, she couldn't deny that she was hungry. Going into her room, she dressed casually and headed for the kitchen.  
  


Summer stopped short of the sight in front of her. It was like another dimension. Some crazy world where everything she thought she knew turned out to be completely wrong and she just didn't know what to think.  
  


Seth, spatula in hand, flour on his cheek, shirt, pants and even some behind his ear, flipping pancakes; bacon frying in the next pan; toast waiting on the counter; eggs sitting in pretty china egg cups she didn't even know they owned and a goofy grin staring back at her. "Feel better?" he asked, plating the food.  
  


"Oh, my God. You...you made me breakfast," she observed, coming behind him, looking on. She hadn't realized how much shorter she was without her heels.   
  


Seth looked up briefly, then continued. "Well, if we want to get technical it's lunchtime, so although I've made an assortment of breakfast foods, we should really call it lunch because anything after eleven and before five..." he trailed off, grabbed two plates and started walking toward the breakfast nook at the other side of the room, where orange juice and coffee already lay in wait. "Well, unless it's like a snack," he said, coming back next to her. "I guess we could just say it was linner or dunch. Like lunch and dinner? 'Cause there's brunch, so why not, right? Anyway, you say that like it's a bad thing."  
  


"N-no," she said. "Do you need help?" she asked, not really knowing what to do anyway.  
  


"Nope. Got it all covered. You sit down and I'll take care of you. Oh yeah, and don't worry about the mess, I'll clean up after."  
  


Summer had stopped paying attention, she was still stuck on his words: _I'll take care of you_. Such a simple sentence and yet it sounded so reassuring. Like he would take care of her and not just feeding her. Hell, he'd already seen her at her worst and stuck around. She believed him and she didn't put too much faith in people, she hoped she was right in trusting Seth.  
  


Wait, what the hell was she thinking? She didn't trust anyone. She couldn't trust Seth. No way.  
  


Summer was taken aback when he gently eased her toward the table, pulled out her chair and motioned for her to sit. She looked up from her seat as he raced back and forth from kitchen to the nook, carrying things in both hands, smiling happily.   
  


Seth stopped in front of her, a look of concentration on his face. She watched his eyes search the table. "What am I forgetting? Huh."  
  


"Seth?"  
  


"Hmm?" he answered, absently.  
  


"You made me food," she said slowly.  
  


Seth studied her as if she'd just told him she wanted to have sex on the table. "Yeah, food, not that difficult. Am I missing something here?"  
  


"You cooked for me."  
  


His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Yeah, uh huh, still not following."  
  


"It's just...no one's ever, like, made me food before...I mean someone who wasn't paid to do it, like room service or a restaurant, or this woman, Tilla, who used to work here until Daddy caught her stealing, but even then she usually just microwaved leftovers."  
  


"Um, okay. Ah, milk!" he said excitedly,   
  


Summer watched him bound over to the fridge, lean in and produce the milk jug, toting it over to her like it was a trophy. Seth was kind of like one of those lab rats that had, like, no attention span and too much energy.  
  


"It's just nice, that's all," Summer said softly as if he hadn't spoken at all. She looked at him through half-closed lids, her cheeks stained a nice rose and her smile shy. "Thanks."  
  


Seth stood there frozen for a minute, milk jug still suspended over his coffee cup. Shaking himself out of it, he took her cup and dropped a spot of milk into it turning the coffee a nice carmel colour. "It's not a big deal," he finally said, setting down the milk.  
  


Seth sat in the opposite chair and grabbed the maple syrup, pouring some on her pancakes and then some on his own.   
  


Summer's eyes didn't leave his face and he must have sensed it, because his cheeks got red and he cleared his throat, beginning to babble. "It wouldn't exactly meet Jamie Oliver's standards, but what does he know? He's English and they're not exactly known for their fine cuisine over there, you know? So your step-mom's not much of a cook, huh?" he asked, taking a big bite of pancake effectively rendering his wayward tongue ceased and desisted.   
  


"You could say that," she answered, picking up her fork and cutting her pancake into small pieces.  
  


"Neither's my mom. We keep her as far from the kitchen as we can, but just in case there's a fire extinguisher in there at all times. Last week she tried to make a roast chicken and thought it would cook faster if she put it on broil, needless to say it was as dry as sawdust. Yeah, we all stuffed it into our napkins and asked for seconds so she...What? Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  


"No, it's nothing," Summer said, shaking her head, a little embarrassed laugh escaping her. "It's just really sweet that you'd do that so you wouldn't hurt her feelings."  
  


Seth blushed and cleared his throat. He pointed to her plate. "So don't hold back, tell me what you think. I can take it, trust me."  
  


Summer took a bite and smiled.  
  


"Well?"  
  


"Good," she answered, awed and amazed at the strangeness of the entire situation. Who would ever have thought that she would have Seth Cohen in her house, let alone in her kitchen eating civilly and actually enjoying herself?   
  


After breakfast, Seth was good on his word, cleaning the kitchen while she concentrated her efforts on the living room, picking up plastic cups and liquor bottles and shoving them all into a big garbage bag. When Seth finished the dishes, he came in to help her. They cleaned the house from top to bottom, scrubbing at stains in the carpet and upholstery until the house was back to normal.  
  


They piled all of Marissa's unopened presents on the dinning room table with some sadness from both of them.  
  


Following Summer into her room, Seth crouched down and grabbed his shoes from under the bed, leaving them there for now. He stepped over to the closet, threw the pillow from earlier back up onto the bed, and picked up one of Summer's paintings.  
  


"I didn't know you were an artist," Seth commented, getting a better look at the canvas. He held it up to the light and brought it really close to his face, studying the brushstrokes and coats of paint.  
  


"I'm not," she said, flatly.  
  


"Well, you painted all of these, didn't you?" he asked, indicating the floor. He walked over to the wall of pictures, still holding the canvas and pointed. "And these, too. You took these pictures. That makes you an artist."  
  


"Hardly," she scoffed, marching over and ripping the painting from his hand. She held it to her chest. "I don't appreciate you making fun of me, Cohen. I changed my mind, go home and don't come back."  
  


"What? Have you lost your mind?"  
  


"I must have, I'm talking to you, aren't I?" she answered, defensively.  
  


"I-What did I do?" he asked, looking truly puzzled.  
  


"Just go, don't make me tell you again."  
  


"Okay, hold up. You know, you're like two completely different people in one little body. On the one hand you're this sweet girl who I really like, who opens up to me when we're alone and lets me see her and on the other you're this complete..."  
  


"Bitch?" summer filled in for him, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.  
  


"No, you're like,...like a...like a mystery. Every time I feel like I'm getting through to you, like I've chipped away some of your armour, you just go on the defensive."  
  


Her lips curled, her eyes hardened. "I have issues."  
  


"Apparently," he snorted. "I wasn't making fun of you, can't you see that? I really want to know."  
  


Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"  
  


Seth scratched behind his ear. Finding traces of flour, he grimaced. It was like he was on trial. "Because it's obviously important to you."  
  


"So?" she prompted.   
  


"So, if it's important to you, it's important to me. You're good. The paintings, the photos, they're good."   
  


Summer looked confused. Seth laughed. It sounded foreign in Summer's house and to her ears.  
  


"What?" she asked, sheepishly.   
  


Seth chuckled. "It's nothing. It's just, you can take compliments when it comes to the way you look, I've heard guys say some interesting things to you and you don't so much as bat an eyelash, but I tell you I like your art and you get all modest about it. It's kinda funny, in a non 'hah ha' way, you know? This only confirms it."  
  


"Confirms what?"  
  


Seth titled his head to the side, looking at her with soft eyes. "You're one complicated woman, Summer Roberts."  
  


She bit her lip, held her breath. "Is that bad?"  
  


"No, no that's not bad." Seth set the canvas down and put on his shoes. He looked up after he had his laces tied. "Okay, well, I'll be back around, uh what time is it now?" They'd already decided that since Summer didn't want to run into Marissa and confess what a hard time she'd had the night before, Seth would go home alone, grab a few things and come back.  
  


Summer checked her watch, leading them out of her room. "It's almost five."  
  


"Okay, so, I should be back around seven. Try not to miss me too much," he said with confidence.  
  


Summer stopped in the foyer, put her hand on her hip and cocked it to the side. "How 'bout I don't try at all?"  
  


Seth shrugged. "Well, whatever works for ya, honey."  
  


"Ew! Did you just call me honey?" she asked, pushing him toward the door.  
  


"Do you prefer snuggle-bunny ?" he asked over his shoulder.   
  


"Ew!"  
  


"Sweetie?"  
  


"Ew!"  
  


"Sugar-lumps?"  
  


She stopped pushing him when they got to the front door. "Uh, double ew! Just stop."   
  


Seth opened the door and faced Summer, a wide grin on his face, displaying his dimples. "How 'bout, apple-dumplin'?"  
  


Summer's mouth hung open, her stance all attitude as she shifted her weight. "Do I look anything remotely like some doughy, pastry thingy?"  
  


Seth looked her over, appraisingly. "Right. Very good point."  
  


"Go. Now," she ordered, giving him a final push.   
  


____________

To be continued....


	5. 5

  
  


Notes: Thanks so much for the kick-ass review. You guys are awesome!

_______________________  
  


Seth was in some sort of euphoric haze as he drove home. He was in a terrific mood. On cloud nine. His head was in the stars. The whole nine yards. Aside for one embarrassing moment, he really seemed to be making progress with Summer and that felt good. Damn good.   
  


Seth walked into his house whistling, not entirely discreet in his entry. He hadn't anticipated Ryan would come out from the kitchen and corner him.   
  


"Dude!" Seth said, grabbing his chest. "Don't do that to me."  
  


Ryan looked him over, catching his crumbled clothes and the luminous smile on Seth's face. "Where've you been?"  
  


"Oh, around," Seth answered vaguely, sidestepping him.  
  


Ryan eyed him sceptically. "What time did you come in at?"  
  


"I, uh, sorta didn't." Seth didn't turn to look at Ryan, instead he started up the steps without preamble when Ryan's words made him freeze.   
  


"You and Summer, huh?" Seth didn't need to see Ryan's face to figure out he was beaming proudly, like a schoolteacher when one of their pupils does well.  
  


Seth's shoulders slumped, he turned and walked down a few stairs so he was not quite eye level with Ryan but not so far away that he had to shout. "It's not what you think and I don't feel like explaining right now." He scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit. "Uh, hey, where's Marissa?" he asked, changing the subject, getting the pressure off himself. Classic Seth.  
  


Ryan seemed to relax, forgetting Seth's mysterious disappearance the night before for the time being. "She had to go over to her Mom's for a while, some dinner thing. She'll be by later, though."  
  


"I know," Seth replied before he could think. Ryan gave him a strange look. "Uh, I, um...you know because she's always here. Not that I care...or don't care. I just... yeah, I'm fine with that. You know, I think I'm just going to take a shower."  
  


"All right, man, but later we talk."  
  


"Sure," Seth called as he took the steps two at a time and bounded into his room, packing a duffel bag with a change of clothes and something to sleep in, before going into his room and taking a quick shower.  
  


Later, as Seth shaved, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and thought of Summer. There was so much to her than he never even thought about. More than a hot body and beautiful face. Summer was an artist. A talented artist at that. And she was complex. Deep down there was a torrent of emotions brewing inside that he just didn't know what to do about. She was a real person. She wasn't just some figurehead of his pre-pubescent fantasies anymore.   
  


Wrapped up in thoughts of Summer, Seth misjudged the razor blade and nicked his chin. He swore and grabbed a wad of toilet paper to swab at the tiny cut.   
  


Going back into his room, he threw an extra toothbrush into the bag and zipped it up. Slinging it over his shoulder, he crept down the stairs trying to go unnoticed. Then he heard voices and it was too late to make a mad dash back up the stairs and he didn't have enough time to run to the door.   
  


Marissa and Ryan came into the foyer hand in hand. Catching movement on the stairs they both turned to look at him. Seth was frozen to the spot, he lifted his hand and offered a lazy wave.  
  


"Where are you off to?" Marissa asked, smirking.  
  


"Here and there. Just got some stuff to do, you know how it is."  
  


Marissa laughed and looked at him strangely and then looked at Ryan for his reaction.   
  


Walking down the stairs, Seth tucked his bag under the last step and moved past Marissa. "Listen, can I talk to you?" He gestured for Ryan to follow him into the family room and looked over at Marissa, smiling as he left the room. "We'll be back."  
  


"What up, man?" Ryan asked after he and Seth had been squaring off for over a minute. It was like some old Western, only it wasn't as if they were rivals or anything.  
  


Seth's eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell Marissa, did you?"  
  


"Tell her what?" Ryan asked innocently.  
  


"That I was at Summer's last night."  
  


Ryan shrugged. "No, it didn't come up. Why?"  
  


"You can't tell her, okay?"  
  


"Why not?" Ryan asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch.  
  


Seth's eyes got all squinty as he debated in his head. Running his hand over the back of his neck, he let out a breath in exasperation. "Marissa came over this morning and blew Summer off to spend time with you... Again. She doesn't want her to know that she can't handle being alone, so just do me a favour and don't tell her, 'kay?  
  


Ryan stood, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "If she asks, I'm not going to lie to her."  
  


"Come on," Seth said, tapping his shoulder, Ryan barely budged. "The last thing Summer needs right now is for Marissa to feel sorry for her. It's a pride thing."  
  


"They're friends, wouldn't it be better-"  
  


"No!"  
  


"You didn't even let me finish."  
  


"Just no. Whatever it was you were going to say, the answer is no. Summer has a lot of pride, a real stubborn streak...she's tenacious. It will not go over well if we meddle in their business. If she wants Marissa to know, she'll tell her."  
  


Ryan shook his head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter to me."  
  


"Okay, so look, I'm going over there again tonight. She needs someone to be with her and I don't have any objections to that being me. Tomorrow things will be back to normal, but at least for tonight..." he trailed off. Seth could feel Ryan's eyes on him. "Don't even say it. I can't help it."  
  


"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Ryan finally said after sighing.   
  


"Good, 'cause I wouldn't listen anyway, I'm really a pain-in-the-ass like that," Seth joked, lamely, knowing that Ryan just wanted what was best for him and that he didn't entirely trust Summer and thought Seth's affections were wasted on her.   
  


Giving Ryan one of those awkward guy-hugs, Seth strolled past Marissa, grabbed his bag and offered her a good-bye with a lopsided grin.  
  


Marissa turned when Ryan came into the room. "What was that about?"  
  


Coming behind Marissa, he put his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder, kissing her neck. "Don't ask."

____________________________________________________  
  


"Hey, Summer?!" Seth hadn't bothered to knock, which was strange, but felt right. Walking through the house, he stopped by the freezer and deposited container of Ben & Jerry's Half-baked. Seth looked around and saw the backdoor was open. For a second he panicked. "Summer?"  
  


"Out here," she called, melodically.   
  


Relieved, he headed toward the voice. "I picked up din-" Seth's ability to speak was lost somewhere between the kitchen and the sliding back doors. Summer, outlined by orange light from the falling sun, stood looking out at the ocean, canvas in front of her, paintbrush in hand, wearing nothing but a starched man's dress shirt splattered with paint. Her legs were tan and her feet bare and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she skilfully painted the horizon. Seth swallowed hard and felt his Adam's apple stick. He cleared his throat. "Dinner."  
  


"Great. I'm, like, starved," she said, setting down her paintbrush in a cup of turpentine and wiping her hands on her shirt. Seemingly unaware of her very appealing sex appeal.   
  


Seth found it hard to speak. His tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of his mouth. "I didn't pick up a movie, mostly because I knew everything I suggested you'd shoot down, but I got ice cream," he offered, his smile crooked.   
  


"Oh, ice cream!" Summer squealed excitedly.   
  


"Later," Seth scolded, laughing.   
  


Summer sent him a scornful look before her features gave way to a smile.   
  


They sat down at a table on the patio, shielded from the sun by a large umbrella. They ate in relative silence, with the occasional wise-crack by Seth and a quick-witted counter-remark by Summer.   
  


"How'd you learn how to do that?" Seth asked before taking a bite of the pasta he'd brought from a little Italian place he knew Summer loved.   
  


"Do what?" she asked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.   
  


Seth pushed his food away and stretched out his legs. He gestured to her half-complete landscape. "Paint. Take pictures. That sorta thing."  
  


Summer shrugged, looking out at the water. For a minute Seth thought maybe he'd upset her again. "My Dad travelled a lot when I was younger...actually, my Dad has always travelled a lot, especially now," she said with a distant look in her eyes. She shook her head as if to dislodge the memories. "When he was busy, my Nanny took me to museums. Something about the art just got to me," Summer looked to Seth, caught his eye and looked away quickly. "One day I just went out and got some art stuff and the rest is history. Art is my escape," Summer finished lamely, not willing to go into further details.   
  


"It's really good," Seth assured her, his hand hovering over hers. At the last second he pulled it away and rested it on the table.   
  


"I have to get out of this," Summer said, gesturing to her painting shirt. When she stood, Seth caught a glimpse of a black bikini underneath. His eyes got wide but he didn't comment.  
  


Seth was just finishing wrapping up the remainder of dinner and pulling out the ice cream when Summer cleared her throat behind him. She was leaning against the counter, changed into pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, her hair swept up into a high ponytail, leaving her nape bare. Seth tried to act normal. Emphasis on tried.  
  


"Ice cream?" His voice squeaked and Summer laughed.  
  


"Sure."  
  


Seth took out two bowls from the top cupboard with familiarity. It was like he'd always been coming over to Summer's house, like they were old friends.   
  


"I was thinking," Summer began.  
  


"Should I be scared?" Seth asked handing her a bowl and a spoon.  
  


"No," Summer laughed. "There is one movie I like to watch, you know, when I'm relaxing. I was thinking since you didn't bring a movie and it's still early... You have to promise me you won't laugh, though."  
  


Seth returned the ice cream to the freezer and took up his own bowl. "I don't know if I can promise that, but I can try. What is it?"  
  


"Cinderella."  
  


Seth looked at her with a smirk playing on his lips. "Funny, I never pictured you as the Disney type. It's a bit minty, but I think I can handle it. "  
  


Summer produced the movie from behind her back and walked toward the family room, Seth at her heels.   
  


"I like this whole getting along thing we have going on," Seth said as he sat down beside her on the couch.   
  


Summer glared at him. "Enjoy it while you can buckaroo, because come Monday I don't even know your name, Cohen."  
  


Instead of taking it to heart like he normally would, Seth simply smiled and nudged her gently in the ribs where he knew she was ticklish. "Buckaroo?"  
  


"Just watch the movie and shut up, Cohen."  
  


"Will do."  
  


_________

Ryan and Marissa were heavily into a make-out session, with Ryan presently trying to use one hand to unhook her bra, a talent he had perfected with years of practice. Just as he completed his goal, Marissa pulled back and broke the kiss.   
  


Marissa sighed, looking into Ryan's eyes. "I hope Summer's doing okay."  
  


"Is that supposed to be sweet talk?" he dead-panned, but seeing that Marissa wasn't playing he rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back to the pillow behind him. "So not the time to be talking about Summer. Although..." Marissa slapped him lightly on the chest.   
  


"Pervert."  
  


"I have eyes."

Marissa sat up and straightened out her dishevelled clothing.   
  


Ryan tried to pull her back down but it was obvious nothing was going to happen until Marissa got whatever was bothering her off her chest. "Isn't her Dad out of town?" Ryan asked casually.  
  


"Yeah, I went over there this afternoon, she seemed okay." Marissa reached back and did up her bra much to Ryan's dismay.  
  


"Why wouldn't she be?" he asked, closing his eyes.  
  


"She... I really shouldn't tell you, Summer would kill me," she said, laying back down, resting her head on his chest.  
  


"Who am I gunna tell?" He picked up strands of her hair and let them fall through his fingers.  
  


Marissa shrugged against him. "She has nightmares. She's afraid to stay alone."  
  


He pulled her chin up so their eyes were locked. "Why? What is there to be afraid of?"  
  


Marissa took a deep breath, leaned back against the pillows. Ryan rolled to his side, resting his head in his hand so he could look at her as she spoke.   
  


"When she was nine, her Dad went away on business, as usual. Everything was fine, her Mom tucked her in and she went to sleep. While she was sleeping, her Mom packed up the car and just...left. No goodbye. No note. Nothing."  
  


"That's harsh." Maybe Ryan wasn't so different from Summer as he thought. Sure she grew up with wealth and privilege but they were both apparently lonely, neglected children. The realization jolted him and also explained why Summer was the way she was. Distant. At times, down right cold. Afraid to ask for help. Just like him.   
  


"Summer was alone for almost three days. The maid found her in her bedroom closet. I guess she was in shock," Marissa continued.   
  


Ryan tried not to think about his own family, about the many times his own Mother walked in and out of his life and what damage she'd done every time. All the different boyfriends. The hard fists when he was just trying to be a kid. The drugs. The alcohol. "What happened to her Mom? Did she ever hear from her again?"  
  


Marissa looked at him pointedly, and Ryan smiled to reassure her he was okay with hearing about it. "A few times, I think. She doesn't really talk about it. She wouldn't even stay in the same room after it happened. She moved all her stuff into the room off of the kitchen, she barely even goes upstairs in her house.   
  


"Her Mom...she has problems. Manic depressive or something. She was a ballet dancer. When she had Summer, she couldn't dance anymore, she seemed to always resent her for that, but Summer loved her Mom more than anyone. She even made me take ballet lessons with her when we were young. Neither of us had the knack for it and it didn't matter after her Mom left. Nothing did. She stopped caring. Stopped letting people in. Except me. It changed her."  
  


Marissa covered her face with her slender hand. Ryan could see tears forming in her eyes. He pulled her hand away and laid a gentle kiss on her palm.   
  


Marissa rolled over so she was on her side too and looked at him glassy-eyed. "God, Ryan, talking about all of this just made me realize what a crappy friend I've been. Summer said she was fine, but- I just know she's lying. She hates to be alone. Maybe I should go over there."  
  


Ryan moved her hand to his chest above his heart and then smoothed his fingers along her cheek. "Don't worry about it."  
  


"I have to," she said, closing her eyes. "I've been so selfish. You don't understand how she gets."  
  


Ryan's voice dropped low, husky. "Seth's with her. He didn't want to tell you because he thought Summer would be pissed, but he was there last night and he's there now."  
  


"He is?" she asked, searching his eyes for reassurance.   
  


Ryan nodded and pulled her close, running his fingers along her spine and sending tingles of awareness throughout her body. Ryan closed his eyes feeling tired, weighed down by memories and things he didn't want to be thinking about.  
  


It didn't take long for Marissa to fall asleep and Ryan followed her almost immediately.

_____________________

An hour into the movie Summer had started to nod off. Seth was partly relieved. After watching her eat ice cream like it was a religious experience, he needed a break. Girls didn't eat ice cream like guys did. Guys scarfed it down. Girls savoured it. The way Summer had licked her spoon was almost provocative and the last thing he needed was more material from his stack of fantasies to pull out when he was feeling particularly randy.  
  


Whether she realized or not, Summer's fingers were gently massaging the back of his neck, unconsciously playing with his short curls. After she'd finished her ice cream, she'd taken their bowls to the kitchen and deposited them in the sink. When she sat back down, she was closer than she had been before. After the first half-an-hour, her head had drooped to his shoulder much to his delight.  
  


Seth touched her leg, giving it a gentle shake. "Why don't you go to sleep? You look tired."  
  


"Gee, thanks, Cohen," she said, her mood darkening. Her hand ceased touching him and she moved away. "Aren't you tired?"  
  


"Not really. I've got shark DNA." He winked at her.  
  


"Well, I'll just go to sleep when you do," her good mood returned and she let her legs rest on his lap. "I can't fall asleep until I know you are." She yawned, closing her eyes.  
  


"Why?" he asked, startling her.  
  


"Just 'cause," she answered, lazily looking at him through her eyelashes.  
  


"Summer."  
  


Summer pulled her legs to her chest and sat up, resting her chin on her knees. "Okay, I... It's like this: if I know you're asleep, than I know you aren't going anywhere." She didn't look at him as she spoke.  
  


"Where would I go?" There was a soft inflection in his voice, almost tender.  
  


"Away," she answered just as softly.  
  


"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, trying to quell her fears.  
  


Summer's eyes met his and he smiled. "All right, I'm tired now."  
  


Summer cocked her head to the side and smiled back. "Okay."  
  


They stood together and Seth followed her to her bedroom. He grabbed his bag off of the bed where Summer had put it earlier and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.   
  


Summer pulled the covers off of her bed and sank into her comfortable mattress, then pulled the blankets back over her. She pulled out a rough looking, stuffed bear, who was missing an eye and looked like it had seen the washing machine one too many times, from under her pillows and hugged it to her chest.   
  


"What is that thing?" Seth asked, laughing at the stuffed animal from his place just outside the bathroom door.   
  


"Mr. Bear," she stated simply.  
  


"Mr. Bear," he echoed, comically. "Very original name. Aren't you a little old for stuffed animals?"  
  


She sent him a withering stare. "Like you're one to talk. Captain Oats?"   
  


"Ah, point taken. I'm sure Mr. Bear is a very fine companion."  
  


"He's the best."   
  


Seth grabbed the throw blanket from the bottom of Summer's bed and laid it over the chair in the corner of the room while he chuckled quietly to himself.   
  


"What are you doing?" Summer sat up in bed, paying no attention when Mr. Bear fell on the floor.  
  


"Going to sleep," Seth answered without turning around as he continued to make up the chair the way he wanted it.  
  


"You're going to sleep there?"  
  


"That was my plan."  
  


"You can't sleep there, don't be an idiot."  
  


"Huh, name-calling. That's strangely familiar," Seth dead-panned.   
  


"Cohen, get real. Do you really think sleeping on that thing is going to be anything but painful? Now stop trying to be all chivalrous and get in this bed."  
  


Seth turned, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "That almost sounded like you wanted me in bed with you. I'm turning you on, aren't I? It's the plaid pajama pants, isn't it? Dammit, I knew they were just too powerful for you to resist."  
  


Summer's face remained dispassionate.   
  


"Right. Too much." Seth grabbed the blanket he'd been rearranging and walked toward the bed, stopping to pick up Mr. Bear and handing it to Summer.  
  


He went around to the other side and lifted up the covers, slipping underneath and giving Summer a sideways glance.   
  


Summer looked at him coyly before she slide over and carefully rested her head on his shoulder, slinging her arm around his middle.  
  


Seth cleared his throat. "I think it would be a good idea if we just stuck to our own side of the bed," he said, remembering what had happened that morning.  
  


Summer moved away, dejected.   
  


Seth lay wide awake for a long time sensing Summer was also still wide awake. Finally, he turned to his side and looked at her. "What's wrong, why aren't you sleeping? You said you were tired."  
  


"I can't sleep," she protested. Summer let her hand tentatively rest in his, her fingers sliding against his palm. "Can I just hold onto you? Just so I know you're here." A humble request.  
  


Seth momentarily was taken aback and couldn't force his voice to cooperate, so instead he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and nodded.   
  


"This doesn't make us friends," she mumbled as she started nodded off almost instantly. "I'm not going to start depending on you, so get that out of your head." A moment later she was dead to the world.  
  


"Of course not," Seth whispered, when he knew she was really asleep and not just faking, giving her hand a light squeeze.  
  


________

A series of whimpers woke Seth up. Some time during the night his hand had come out of Summer's grasp and she was currently tossing around, crying softly in her sleep.  
  


"Summer?" he whispered, coaxing her against him to stop her from moving. She was malleable in his arms, like a rag doll.  
  


She was saying something so softly Seth had to strain to hear.   
  


"Mommy!" she cried.   
  


Seth closed his eyes and shook his head, holding her close. "Summer? Come on, sweetie, you're having a bad dream."  
  


She mumbled incoherently.   
  


"That's it," Seth comforted, stroking the base of her neck. "Come on, wake up."  
  


Her eyes opened wide. She looked around the room, trying to re-familiarize herself with her surroundings.  
  


"Cohen," she said, her voice coming out thick with sleep and a trace of panic. She looked into his eyes, immediately burying her head in his chest afterward.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tender.   
  


"I'm fine. Really, I'm okay," she mumbled into his shirt.  
  


When she pulled away from him her cheeks were red and her eyes were glazed. "I didn't...it's ...I..." She tried to string together a coherent sentence as her cheeks continued to redden.  
  


She was clutching onto him. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her short, shallow gasps against his neck. "I'm fine. I'm okay," she repeated desperately, as if she were trying to convince herself.  
  


Seth held her for a long time, whispering simple words of comfort and rubbing his fingers up and down her back and through her hair. "Why are you so afraid to admit you're hurting?"  
  


She pulled back as if she'd been slapped. "I'm not afraid! I'm not afraid of anything and I'm not hurting," she said, adamantly. "I just had a bad dream. Dammit, Cohen, why do you have to analyse everything? Sometimes a dream is just a dream." She pulled her fingers through her hair, trying to fix the wild mess of tangles.  
  


"Okay. Sorry," he apologized. He looked at her until she finally returned his gaze. "Are you really okay?"  
  


She nodded slowly, taking his hand again. Despite his better judgement, he pulled her against him and kissed the top of her hair. She didn't protest.   
  


He was weak when it came to her and he'd do anything to make her feel safe. Anything.  
  


______

Summer woke up slowly, grudgingly. Hitting the alarm with venom, Summer rolled over, refusing to open her eyes. There were birds chirping outside and the waves of the ocean seemed particularly loud. Pulling a pillow over her head, she tried to drown out the noise. Then her phone began to ring incessantly. Apparently the whole universe wanted her to wake up.  
  


Fumbling around, she found her cell on the floor and flipped it open. "What?!" she asked into the receiver, her brain still foggy with sleep.  
  


"_Uh, hi._"  
  


"Cohen?" She asked, feeling around in bed, realizing for the first time she was alone.   
  


"_Yeah. Uh, I had to leave early this morning, I'm sorry. Ryan called, my parents came home early. Are you- you're okay, right_?"  
  


"Fine," she answered. "And Cohen?"  
  


"_Hmm_?"  
  


She hesitated. "Thanks. It really meant a lot... I'm glad you were here."  
  


"_Yeah, no problem_," he said and Summer could just picture the smile on his face.  
  


Summer sat up, wiped the sleep from her eyes with a curled fist and stretched. "Where are you now?" She asked through a yawn.  
  


"_School_."  
  


"What time is it?"  
  


"_Around eight_."  
  


"Oh," she said, "I better get ready."  
  


"_Okay_," Seth said, hesitantly. "_Everything goes back to normal today, right_?"  
  


"Huh? What are you talking about?"  
  


"_You know, we said that on Monday we'd just pretend nothing happened. Are we-are we still doing that_?"  
  


Summer's breath caught, her throat felt tight. "Y-yeah," she answered, struggling to get it out. She could hear his disappointed sigh and wanted to take it back, but it was too late.  
  


"_Okay, just checking. Bye, Summer_."  
  


He hung up before she even got a chance to reply.   
  


When her eyes finally focussed, they zeroed in on her bedside table where a bowl of cereal sat next to a bowl of ice with a carton milk nestled in the centre to keep it from souring. It was the closest thing to breakfast in bed Summer had ever had. Throwing the phone down onto the floor, she fell back against the mattress and closed her eyes, willing herself not to care, not to cry. Summer was good at pretending. It was probably the reason she was such a great actress.  
  


_________

To be continued......


	6. 6

  
  


Notes: I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than the last ones, but I really have to study. Frankly, I didn't think I would be able to find the time to write the next chapter at all, but I managed to squeeze it out because it's been such a long time since the last chapter.

  
  


Thank you everyone for the reviews, they are truly awesome and brighten my day. 

  
  


Now to address some concerns that seem to be popping up: I got a rather, um...enlightening e-mail the other day and I was just wondering if other people were feeling the same. People seem to think that I'm reeling you all in and going to make this slash, let me just say right now that is not the case. I always clearly label everything and nowhere have I said there would be slash in this fic, because there won't. This is a Seth/Summer fic with Marissa and Ryan as a couple and there will be no same sex pairings in this particular fic. 

I am a slash writer (sometimes) but that has no bearings on this fic and if people want to stop reading just because I write slash than that is your right. I'm not stopping you. I understand that some people don't like and/or understand slash and that's your right, too, but this is not slash and won't become slash. I know people may be leery about me writing for both conventional couples and unconventional couples, but that's my right and I will not stick to one just because it makes some people uncomfortable. I write whatever I feel like and I'm sorry if that bothers people, but I'm not trying to trick anyone. If that's what people think I'm not sure why I bother at all.

  
  


Sorry for that rant, but I just had this feeling that certain people don't appreciate me writing for both slash and hetero couples. Just needed to get that out of my system. I'm okay now. Really. lol

  
  


_______________

After taking an extra long shower and redoing her make-up twice, Summer knew she was going to be late for school and she didn't give a care in the world. 

  
  


After parking her car haphazardly, she made her way to the main office and waited in the long line, that stretched into the hallway, to get a late pass. She was going to end up missing first period all together.

  
  


Serena Johanson was in line three people ahead of her. Serena was the quintessential Newport girl. Rich and beautiful. Superficial and stupid. Traits Summer was realizing weren't very important in the grand scheme of things. Well, being stupid was preventable if the girl would pick up a book instead of a bong every once in a while. 

  
  


Summer tried to hide behind the tall jock in front of her, but as soon as Serena turned her head, Summer knew she had been spotted. Stepping out of line, the blonde bounded over to her, her heels clacking on the tiled floors. 

  
  


"Oh, my God! Summer!" 

  
  


"Hey, Serena," Summer uttered, barely able to control her gag reflex. This was her life, filled with fake people and fake friendships. She hung out with these people that didn't know her; people that didn't want to know her. Seth had been the first person to ever see her art and he hadn't laughed. He'd complimented her when she felt completely vulnerable and exposed. Somehow, she didn't think her 'friends' would have the same reaction. For a fleeting moment she wished she was back in bed wrapped under the covers in Seth's arms. 

  
  


"Awesome party, girl!" Serena squealed pulling Summer into an unwanted hug.

  
  


Summer pulled back, shifting her books to one arm and smoothing her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, thanks, you were there?"

  
  


"Well, duh! Of course, I was, hun. You were, like, so trashed!" she said, laughing like a hyena. "Did you hear that Trent has, like, a concussion?" Summer rolled her eyes inconspicuously.

  
  


"I might have heard something about that," Summer drawled, recounting the story Seth had told her. 

  
  


The bell rang signalling the ten minute break between classes. The halls began to fill with students, pushing and shoving their way along the corridors. 

  
  


Serena twisted around, her hair flying over her shoulder as she looked for the next source of gossip. "Looks like Devon and Braiden are playing pass the geek again."

  
  


"Huh?" Summer asked, her head still in the clouds.

  
  


"Over there," she said, pointing. "Oh, don't look so worried, it's only Seth Cohen. God, could he be an lamer? I mean, like, look at that hair! And those clothes! You would never know he was Caleb Nicols grandson. Too bad, too, he's, like, totally loaded."

  
  


Summer had stopped paying attention. Instead, she watched as Devon pushed Seth against a row of lockers and Braiden sucker-punched him in the stomach. Her first instinct was to storm over there and slap the piss out of the two bigger boys, but Seth would probably hate her for that and the last thing he needed was a reputation for having to be protected by a girl. Besides, it shouldn't matter to her anymore. Whatever they had was over with. Seth had said himself that everything went back to normal on Monday and it was Monday.

  
  


She continued to watch as Braiden and Devon walked away, giving each other high-fives and laughing. Seth picked up his school bag that they'd thrown into the trash and dusted it off. Shoulders slumped, he slung the bag over his chest and began walking down the hall toward Summer. She turned, offering him a small smile. Seth just kept walking, eyes forward.

  
  


"That was so funny! Don't ya think?" 

  
  


"It wasn't funny, Serena."

  
  


"Puh-lease. We've laughed at Seth Cohen millions of times, it's all in fun."

  
  


"Well, maybe some of us grow-up," Summer replied, gritting her teeth. Had she really laughed at Seth and not given it a second thought? Of course she had. It hadn't bothered her this much before.

  
  


"Whatever," Serena commented, taking no heed to the anger in Summer's eyes. She turned from Summer and looked down the hall waving her hands like a mad woman. She looked like an air traffic controller. "Drew!" she squealed and ran to greet a petite redhead.

  
  


Summer rubbed her temples, she felt a headache coming on.

  
  


-

By the time Summer got a late pass it was already well into second period. She dreaded walking into class, but did it nonetheless. Mr. Shea was at the front of the room and took the green slip of paper from her hands with a frown. "Take your seat and get the notes from someone after class," he said, turning back to the blackboard. 

  
  


Summer smiled politely and took her seat next to Marissa. Marissa raised her eyebrows in question. Summer rolled her eyes and whispered, "I'll explain later."

  
  


Class went by surprisingly fast. It was amazing what she could accomplish when she actually paid attention.

  
  


Next period was lunch, so the girls made their way to the cafeteria. 

  
  


"So?" Marissa asked, getting in line behind Summer.

  
  


"So what?"

  
  


"What's going on?"

  
  


"I slept in," she lied, picking up a bottle of water, salad and a bag of chips and placing it on her lunch tray.

  
  


Marissa grabbed a bottle for herself and a salad and followed Summer to the check-out. "That's it?" she asked, as they looked for available seats. Spotting a vacant table, they hurried over and set down their trays. 

  
  


"Look, Summer," Marissa began, "Ryan told me everything. About you," she continued, whispering the last, "and Seth."

  
  


Summer looked around making sure no one heard. "That little shit. What'd he brag to Chino or something?"

  
  


"No, not at all. In fact, he made Ryan promise not to tell me."

  
  


"Oh." 

  
  


"Why, Sum?"

  
  


"Why what?" She asked absently, taking a bite of lettuce. 

  
  


"Why'd you lie to me? You told me you'd be okay. I know it's partly my fault, I should have thought about it. I know how you get. I know you hate it-"

  
  


"Just stop it," Summer said, setting down her fork. "It's fine. Really, Coop. You're making too big a deal out of this. You had your big day with Ryan, I didn't want to ruin that for you. I know how important he is to you and I wanted you to be happy on your birthday."

  
  


"You're important to me, too."

  
  


"I know but it's not the same thing. I shouldn't have to have a babysitter every time my Dad decides to pop out of my life."

  
  


"I should have been there for you. I'm sorry, Sum."

  
  


"Can we just stop this right now? I don't want to dwell on it anymore."

  
  


"Fine. Just one thing though."

  
  


"Hmm?" 

  
  


"Were you okay? Did you have any nightmares?"

  
  


Summer shrugged, her face heating up. "Just one."

  
  


Marissa nodded, her eyes darkening with concern. "Same one?"

  
  


Summer nodded. 

  
  


They didn't talk about it anymore. Marissa insisted on staying for the remainder of Summer's father's trip at her house and Summer protested a little before relenting. The truth was, she didn't think she'd be able to stay alone for that long and didn't want to risk it. 

  
  


"So you want to go with me to Ryan's after school? We could hang out for a bit before we go back to your place," Marissa asked as she threw away her garbage. 

  
  


Summer bit her lip, knowing she had rehearsal after school. She'd be letting everyone down if she didn't show up, but she didn't want to see Seth. And since Seth would be at rehearsal the Cohen house would probably be the last place she would run into him. "Sure, that sounds good."

_________

Seth dried his hands on a paper towel and threw it in the trash. Lifting up his shirt, he stared into the mirror at his ribs where a purple-yellow bruise had been forming since he was accosted earlier that morning. He'd seen Summer out of the corner of his eye and the only thing worse than being beaten up and humiliated in front of his classmates was having Summer there to witness it and then smile at him with pity. 

  
  


Wincing, he pulled his shirt back down and walked out of the bathroom. Making his way to the auditorium, he kept himself in check just in case Devon was lurking around a corner because he really, really didn't need any more abuse. He'd had a shit day and wasn't in the mood to talk his way out of another pounding. All was clear in the halls, and when he got to the auditorium he took the stage right away, noting that Summer was nowhere in sight. 

  
  


Seth sat down on one of the couches and took out his copy of the play from his backpack. He read over his lines, still finding it difficult to memorize them. He had too much on his mind to care anyway. 

  
  


Mr. Birdman took the stage and looked around at the kids filling the stage and those lounging in the audience. "We're missing some people," he concluded after looking over the cast list. "Let's allow fifteen minutes for late arrivals before we begin."

  
  


Seth looked up from his script and was disheartened to find that Summer still hadn't shown up. 

Fifteen minutes passed quickly and it became obvious that Summer wasn't going to show. 

  
  


"Where's Summer?" Mr. Birdman asked receiving blank stares. "Anyone seen Summer Roberts today?"

  
  


"She's probably at the mall," someone blurted out.

  
  


Seth cringed. 

  
  


"Fine. We've waited long enough, Tracy take Summer's place for today."

  
  


An hour into rehearsal Mr. Birdman called it quits. It was clear Seth wasn't into it and Tracy hadn't even read the source material let alone started to memorize it. Things were going awful, heaven forbid if Summer dropped out of the play and Tracy had to take over. That thought sent Seth into a panic. Maybe Summer was dropping out of the play and that would mean he would never get to talk to her. He just couldn't let that happen.

  
  


Seth took the long way home cruising in the Range Rover. By the time he got home, he wasn't feeling sorry for himself anymore, instead he was angry. At Summer. 

  
  


Who did she think she was dictating his life? Not that she really ever told him what to do, but she'd gone along with his plan of pretending that they were anything but mortal enemies. How could she have done that after the awesome weekend they had together? Granted, half of the time she was drunk, then hung over, then terrified about being alone... So, it probably hadn't reached the level of awesome-ness as it had for Seth. Then there was Seth's worshipping devotion that she didn't share...even though he was pretty sure she had felt something for him, at least. You don't just kiss someone for no reason. You just don't. Even if you were drunk. Right? So yeah, he was confused and angry. 

  
  


He had to vent. And since his Mom didn't know anything about the whole weekend, nor did he have any desire to tell her, the logical choice was to tell Ryan.

  
  


Seth went straight out to the pool house after he'd parked. He opened the door without knocking and immediately began his tangent. "Guess what she did now? It's not bad enough that she agreed that we would pretend the whole weekend never happened or that she won't talk to me at school. No, no. Now, she doesn't even show-" Seth stopped, his eyes landing on long mahogany hair that clearly did not belong to Ryan. Summer was on Ryan's bed? Did he miss something? "Summer?"

  
  


"Cohen," she said, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. 

  
  


"What are you doing here?" Seth asked, not noticing Marissa and Ryan were in the room, all he could focus on was Summer.

  
  


Marissa nudged Ryan's shoulder. "Um, why don't you go show me that thing you were talking about?"

  
  


Seth looked over at Marissa for the first time, noticing Ryan and Marissa sharing a wicker chair beside the bed. 

  
  


Ryan looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "What thing?"

  
  


Marissa eyes widened, she took his hand and urged him to stand. "You know that thing?"

  
  


"Oh, the thing," Ryan finally said, getting the hint. "Yeah, we'll be back."

  
  


Seth shifted his weight and scratched his neck. The door closed softly behind Ryan and Marissa. "Did you forget about rehearsal?" Seth finally asked, after a minute's pause. 

  
  


"No," she answered, any residual tenderness evaporated from her voice leaving bland resignation. 

  
  


"No? What, you just decided not to show up?" he asked, incredulously. 

  
  


"I don't know," Summer answered, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her cheek on her knee.

  
  


Seth's heart jumped to his throat. Summer knew exactly how to work him. He couldn't look at her while she looked so vulnerable and honestly stay mad. "Well, thanks. No, really. Tracy Shephard-your understudy-remember her? No? Well after today I'm certainly not going to forget. I got to read lines with her and guess what? Big fan of Act two. Yeah, she wanted to go over it again and again. I swear, my lips are actually chapped."

  
  


A small grin tugged at the corner of Summer's mouth. "You're not a very good liar."

  
  


"No?"

  
  


Summer shook her head.

  
  


"So why'd you miss practice?" His voice was tender, which surprised them both.

  
  


"Didn't feel like going."

  
  


"Huh. But that was just today, right? I mean, you're not quitting are you?"

  
  


She shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

  
  


"You can't quit." Summer tuned her head so he couldn't see her face. "Summer, are you listening?"

  
  


She shifted and stood, grabbing her purse from the bottom of the bed. "Relax, Cohen, I couldn't quit even if I wanted to."

  
  


He crossed the room, towering over her. "What's that mean?"

  
  


"I lost a bet, remember?" she met his eye, clearly proving she couldn't be intimidated by him. 

  
  


Seth rolled his eyes. "So you say."

  
  


Summer's hand went to her hip, a scowl fixed itself to her face. "What are you implying?"

  
  


Seth took a step back, just in case one of her rage blackouts decided to make a sudden appearance, he'd already had his customary beating for the day. "Oh, I don't know, maybe that there was no bet and you're just too proud to admit that you actually like working on the play."

  
  


"Hah. Get real. Don't waste your breath, I'm doing the play so it really doesn't matter if it's my choice or not. Are you done analysing me yet, 'cause I want to go home." She didn't let him respond, she was at the door and turning the knob.

  
  


"Sorry, too much Oprah." He took a few steps forward, determined. "So, is your Dad home yet?"

  
  


Summer whirled around so fast, her hair whipped around wafting the scent of her shampoo into the air. Seth inhaled sharply. "That's none of your business!"

  
  


His eyes hardened. "So this is how it's going to be?" Seth had learned that Summer was good at pretending and even better at being in denial. 

  
  


Summer shrugged. 

  
  


"Fine, fine. No, I get it."

  
  


She bit her lip and when she released it the imprints of her teeth had replaced her lip gloss. "Cohen."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"I..." she hesitated. 

  
  


"Yes?"

  
  


"Forget it."

  
  


Summer stalked out of the pool house and found Marissa in the kitchen with Ryan. She cleared her throat, breaking the pair apart.

  
  


"You ready to go, Coop?" Summer asked, brushing past them toward the front door.

  
  


"Sure," Marissa answered, smiling at Ryan before she followed.

  
  


Seth leaned against the counter and watched as Summer dragged Marissa out of his house. "God, I can't stand her!"

  
  


"Uh huh," Ryan humoured, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge and tossing one to Seth. Seth fumbled and it fell to the ground. 

  
  


He bent to pick it up, not giving up on his rant. "She's like...she's like...ugh!" Seth gave up trying to find the right words. 

  
  


"Yup, most women are."

  
  


Seth's eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of me? Seriously, this humour thing? Not going over well with me."

  
  


Ryan chuckled. "Sorry, man."

  
  


"Ryan, dude, I'm in such trouble," Seth said, setting the water on the counter. "I seriously need to get over Summer, but how can I get over her when she's so damn sexy. It's like, one minute I'm totally pissed and the next she just gives me this look and I'm Jello. Jello, dude! She even eats sexily. I mean, God, it is so wrong how bad I wanted to be ice cream last night," he finished, gesticulating dramatically, before fisting his hands in his hair in frustration.

  
  


"Well, see, there's your problem," Ryan said, bringing the bottle of water to his lips and taking a long drink.

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"Ice cream," he said simply. Seth looked to him for further explanation. "Never give a woman ice cream, especially if you're trying to get over her. It's a proven fact that no woman can eat ice cream without looking sexy."

  
  


Seth leaned his hip against the counter, his hand tapping against the cool surface. "Huh. I never thought of that. So when Marissa eats ice cream-"

  
  


Ryan smiled. "Oh yeah. Torture."

  
  


"Huh."

  
  


Kirsten stepped into the kitchen, noting the bewildered expression on Seth's face and the look of amusement on Ryan's. Opening the freezer, she pulled out a pint of ice cream and set it on the counter. Grabbing a few bowls and spoons, she asked, "do you boys want some ice cream?"

  
  


Seth's face drained of colour. "That is so gross!" He refused to look at his Mom. He'd never think of ice cream the same way thanks to Ryan... well, really, thanks to Summer. "Oh, God. Excuse me while I go wash my eyes out with bleach." Seth walked away, dragging his feet.

  
  


Kirsten looked to Ryan for explanation. "What's with him?"

  
  


"Girl trouble," Ryan said, smirking as he walked away, leaving behind a confused Kirsten. 

  
  


____

To be continued....


	7. 7

Notes: Thank you everyone so much for the reviews. Y'all are the best!

Just for the record: I don't read spoilers, so I had no idea Anna was going to be some sort of an artist. I considered changing my plans for this story in lieu of that, but decided against it. The latter parts don't work without it and I think Summer is angst-y enough to be an artist, but maybe that's just me. 

Happy Holidays!

______________________________________

Summer was not very articulate when she was angry.

One would think over the years she would have developed an ability to cope with it in a civilized manner, but that was just wrong. Nope, when Summer Roberts got angry it only led to rage blackouts and rage blackouts took many shapes. There was the Throwing Fits rage blackout, accompanied by flying projectiles and/or cursing . The Whining and Screechy blackout, not to be confused with the Squealing and Crying blackout, though, they were quite similar. And recently there had been a new entry into the Rolodex of her mind and possibly the most powerful rage blackout of them all: The Seth Cohen rage blackout; a mixture of uncontrollable rambling and pointed sarcasm.   
  


Driving while under the influence of The Seth Cohen rage blackout was not yet banned in California.   
  


Summer checked her rearview mirror and switched lanes, increasing her speed. "I can't believe him... Who does he think.... Telling me what I should and shouldn't do..."  
  


Marissa checked her seatbelt and gripped the door handle tightly. "Sum, don't you think you should slow down?"  
  


They had just left the Cohen house, Summer peeling out of the driveway as fast as her BMW would take her.  
  


Summer took her eyes off the road for a second to glare at Marissa. "Do you believe the nerve of him? I can't stand him!"  
  


"Who?" Marissa asked, keeping her eyes forward. If Summer wasn't going to be watching traffic, one of them had to.   
  


"Coop, haven't you been listening to a word I've said?" Summer switched lanes again, narrowly missing a green Jaguar.   
  


Marissa took a deep breath, looking behind them, listening to cars honk in their wake. Summer seemed oblivious."I've been trying but you haven't been making a lot of sense."  
  


The car jolted at the stop light, Summer had put the brakes on just in time, avoiding going through a red. She tapped her nails impatiently on the steering wheel waiting for the light to change. "Seth Cohen! I'm talking about Seth freakin' Cohen. Let me tell you, if he thinks that I'm just going to, like, let him make me feel guilty about some stupid play, well then he has another thing coming. I have, like, nothing to feel guilty about. It was one rehearsal. It's not like I missed opening night or something, but he acts like it's the end of the world."  
  


Marissa watched as Summer missed their turnoff. "Sum?"  
  


"It's not like I was making a habit of it. I just didn't want to see him. I mean, why should I feel guilty? He's all like: 'so this is how it's going to be?' Puh-lease, like that's going to make me feel bad."  
  


"Summer?"  
  


Summer's sped increased. "I don't feel guilty. I don't."  
  


"Summer!?"  
  


"What?" she asked, annoyed.   
  


"You passed your house."  
  


"Huh?" Looking around, Summer finally realized she was heading the wrong way. "Oh." Doing an illegal u-turn, she turned the car around and cut off a silver Mercedes. "These people don't know how to drive," she scoffed.   
  


Marissa sat back in her seat, stunned silent.   
  


Why was it that Seth Cohen had the power to anger her more than anyone? She was more mad at him than she was, currently, at her father, who had chosen yet again to abandon her in favour of a 'business' trip and her stepmother who insisted on being the focal point of everything. 

-

They arrived home unscathed, though, there was a close call with a man in a black SUV and only through Summer's ingenious use of the f-word and Marissa apologetic smile were they able to escape. Summer threw her school bag on the couch dramatically and kicked off her heels, letting them rest where they fell on the tiled floor. Why bother picking them up when her father employed a maid to do it for her?  
  


Casting tired eyes at Marissa, she let out a regretful yawn. "I'm going to bed. Do whatever you want."  
  


Marissa's eyes narrowed. "It's only 6:30."  
  


"I don't care," she said, already dragging her feet across the floor toward her room. "I'm sorry. I know this can't be much fun for you, but I can't seem to keep my eyes open."  
  


Marissa stopped Summer's forward momentum with a hand on her shoulder. She turned the other girl around so they were face to face. Her tall frame dwarfed Summer. "What's wrong, Sum?"  
  


"I'm just really tired," she lied. "There's food in the fridge, or you can order something. There's menus in the top drawer beside the microwave, and there should be money in the cookie-jar."  
  


"Summer, you know you can talk to me if you need to, right?"  
  


"Sure, Coop," Summer answered, forcing a smile. "Oh, I almost forgot." Hurrying away, she came back with a few overstuffed bags filled with brightly wrapped gifts. "You didn't open any of them."  
  


Marissa looked at them, her face paling. Summer turned and started walking and didn't stop until she got to her room, closing the door behind her.  
  


A small flicker of triumph went through Summer. Not that she wanted Marissa to feel bad, but she wanted her to realize how much trouble she'd gone to in throwing her a party and okay, maybe she did want her to feel a little guilty, but her disappearing act with Ryan had really hurt her and that was not something Summer admitted to freely.  
  


Summer was the type of person that kept her feelings locked deep inside until they were ready to explode, hence the rage blackouts.   
  


She surveyed her room. Having cleaned up the mess Seth had created earlier, it seemed bare. The paintings were back in her closet along with her art supplies and her painting shirt was shoved somewhere in the back with rags she used to wipe off the canvases when she'd made a mistake. No one really knew how into art she actually was. Marissa knew she dabbled at it, but no one knew how serious she took it.   
  


A lot of people thought Summer tended to be narcissistic and it was true, at times, Summer tended to care more than a little about how she looked, and that could be perceived as conceited or egotistical, but if those people knew anything about how Summer regarded her art, they would be forced to rethink their assessment that Summer was this holy goddess that never had an insecure thought a day in her life.   
  


The truth was, art was the only way Summer could express herself. The only way she let her real self shine through. And it was extremely personal. The fact that Seth Cohen, of all people, had seen it and gotten it, no less, had really meant something to her and that was precisely the reason she needed to stay away from him. She didn't need another person in her life to disappoint her. That's what she had her family for.  
  


Padding over to her closet, she used the light from her window to find a large canvas that she had silently titled: Mother. It was a figure adorned in light wearing a ballerina tutu, surrounded by people dressed the same only their clothing was darker and they had no faces. It was on a background of black, in the corner was the face of a small child, hindered by bars of a crib that really wasn't a crib at all. The child was kept out of the very space she wanted to occupy. Large, dark blue tears pooled at the bottom of the painting, but seemed to have no origin.   
  


Shaking her head, Summer stuffed the canvas way in the back of her closet, ignoring the pain in her chest. Summer didn't cry, so when a tear escaped her eye, she brushed it away and like everything bad in her life, she pretended it hadn't happened.   
  


Art critics have claimed that Vincent Van Gogh was a genius.   
  


Superior intellect has been linked to mental illness.   
  


People who are different or too smart for this world often end up feeling caged. Summer's mother, though not an artist, was artistic in her craft. She was a dancer who couldn't dance any longer after she'd had a hard labour and given birth to Summer. And that made her less than stable mentally. She was meant to dance.  
  


Van Gogh went crazy and cut off his own ear. It was apparently his love for a woman that drove him to such extremes.   
  


Summer's mother left one night without a word and they all knew it was in part due to her father's infidelity and her own restlessness, but deep down, Summer always wondered if she was to blame, too. And secretly, way in the back of her mind, she'd always been afraid she might be crazy as well.  
  


Summer undressed, opting for a comfortable cotton nightgown instead of one of the silky pajama-sets she sometimes wore. She wanted to feel comforted, like she did when she was a little girl when she didn't have to think about boys or best-friends or anything remotely difficult. Her body went lax as she sank into bed and closed her eyes.   
  


______ 

Marissa opened her presents, impressed by her friends' generosity.   
  


Summer's present had blown her away. It must have been a month ago she had mentioned it. They had been in the mall when a silver tennis bracelet had caught her eye. Knowing she couldn't afford it, with all the stuff going on with her family, she had stared at it longingly until Summer had dragged her along to look for shoes. When Marissa opened the box and saw the bracelet, she nearly cried. After that, she started thinking about all the times she'd snubbed Summer since she'd started dating Ryan. She cringed when she tallied up the number and realized what a shitty friend she'd become.   
  


Marissa went to the kitchen and looked through the menus, opting for pizza. Grabbing the cordless phone, she stopped by Summer's room to see if she wanted any. The door was closed. When she cracked it open, she saw Summer sprawled out on her bed, tangled in covers and sleeping soundlessly. Easing the door shut, she made the call to the pizza place for just herself.   
  


After she finished her meal, she watched the televison for a little while, getting restless. Picking up the phone again, she dialled the Cohen residence and hoped Ryan would answer.  
  


Ryan picked up after three rings, sounding winded. "'_ello_?"  
  


"Hey," she responded, airily.  
  


"_Hey, I was just thinking about you_." She could just about hear him smile through the phone line.  
  


Her eyebrows quirked and her lips pursed together in a tight smile. She tried not to laugh. "Oh yeah," she asked on her end. "And what, in particular, were you thinking about?"  
  


"_Well... I'm not sure I should say_."  
  


Marissa laughed, unable to hold it in. "Afraid this isn't a secure line?"  
  


"_You've been watching Alias again, haven't you_?"  
  


"Maybe," she said, laughing. "So, tell me, what was it exactly you were thinking?"  
  


"_I think I should wait to show you the next time we see each other_."  
  


"Hmm... I think the school might frown upon public groping."  
  


"_Who said anything about groping_?" Ryan asked, chuckling on the other end of the phone.  
  


"Okay, maybe that's what I was thinking about."  
  


"_And they say all teenage boys do is think about sex_."  
  


"I didn't say anything about sex. I said groping," she corrected playfully.  
  


"_You got me there. So, what are you wear_-" he started, clearing his throat. "_Yeah, I got four for that one, too_."  
  


"What?"  
  


"_Um, thirteen_," he answered. She could hear papers shifting in the background.  
  


"What are you talking about? Ryan, is someone with you?"  
  


"_Mmm hmm_."  
  


Marissa's smile increased in size. So much for phone sex. "It must be Mrs. or Mr. Cohen because you wouldn't get this quiet if it was just Seth. Speaking of Seth-"   
  


"_Don't get me started. He's been moping around. He even locked himself in his room with Captain Oats and vowed never to eat ice cream again_."  
  


"Summer went to bed all ready. They're in such denial."  
  


"_Yep_."  
  


"See you tomorrow?"  
  


"_Yeah, sorry_."  
  


"No problem, you can explain exactly what you were thinking before class. Bye!" She hung up, not giving him a chance to reply.  
  


Marissa was still smiling when she opened the door to Summer's bedroom. She was surprised to find that the air mattress, she usually used when she stayed, over wasn't all ready set up. It wasn't like Summer to forget to do something like that. Marissa cringed at the idea of waking Summer up.

______

Summer was having the best dream. The images were scattered, though. Warm hands on her back. A soft voice in her ear. Shooting tingles in her feet like someone was massaging them. Laughter. Lips. 

Summer sprang up in bed. "Oh, my God. I'm going to kill him."   
  


She remembered now. Oh, God. She remembered what she'd been trying so hard to suppress. Everything. The kiss. Seth Cohen. They had kissed and it had been good. Like, really good. Like, better than it should have been because Seth was far too auspicious for someone who'd just learned to kiss a month or two ago.   
  


"Kill who? You okay, Sum?"  
  


Summer shook her head, her eyes moving to meet Marissa's. She finally registered where she was and what was going on as Marissa continued to look at her suspiciously. "Uh, I'm fine. I wasn't talking to you anyway." At the moment, she didn't care that her words came out bitchier than she'd intended. Seth Cohen had lied to her and he was so going to pay.  
  


"Um, okay. I was just looking for the air mattress. The one I usually use, you know? I thought you'd have it out all ready since Seth slept here."  
  


"I think it's in my closet or maybe it's in the linen closet upstairs," she replied absently.   
  


"Wait, where did he sleep then?"  
  


"Who?"  
  


"You know who?"  
  


Summer's eyes widened. Her brain froze. "Cohen? Uh, he..." she stumbled, her eyes scanning the room. Spotting the chair in the corner, she remembered that he had planned on sleeping there. She had no problem with stretching the truth. "The chair. He slept in the chair."  
  


"Ouch."  
  


"Uh huh. Yeah," Summer agreed untangling herself from her sheets. She stood, groggily making her way to the closet when she remembered that there was hardly any room for clothes let alone an air mattress. She tried to force her brain to work. Where the heck did she put that thing?   
  


It hadn't been that long since Marissa stayed over, had it? Then again, she usually spent her nights at Marissa's house when her father went out of town. Well, she had before Marissa's parents separated. Shaking her head, she tried to piece together what she had done with it, when the answer finally came to her. "It's in my old room," she said very quiet. So quietly, in fact, Marissa didn't hear her.  
  


"Where?" she asked, and Summer could feel the heat of her eyes on her back as she left the room. "Summer?" Marissa called, following her.  
  


Summer took a deep breath. She could do this. All she had to do was get in and get out. She didn't have to look around and remember all the times her mother tucked her in or the many nights she didn't. She wouldn't have to remember crying herself to sleep or confiding in Mr. Bear when she was afraid of the dark.  
  


Summer's fingers shook as she reached for the keys that rested in a rack beside the garage door. She'd forgotten to re-open all the doors upstairs after the party.   
  


"Where are you going? It's late."  
  


"Nowhere," she answered, shakily. "The mattress and extra blankets are in my old room. Diane put them there after she had the maid clean my room when I refused to."  
  


Marissa's face blanched. Diane was Summer's step-mom. Most people called her Dee-Dee. Summer nor Marissa ever had. When Summer was in a joking mood, the pair un-affectionately would say Die-Anne when referring to the Botox and liposuction junkie. This was not one of those times, Summer was really freaked.  
  


She was a chronic liar and prescription drug addict and made Summer's father believe she was perfect and that Summer was a brat. It wasn't a stretch to think that Summer and her father's relationship would be vastly improved if Diane didn't exist. But as it was, Dee-Dee made Summer's life hell, constantly doing things like this just to torment her.  
  


Marissa took the keys from Summer's trembling hands. "I'll get it. I'm the one sleeping on it, I can get it myself."  
  


Summer's eyes brimmed with thanks. Summer nodded, unable to form her gratitude into words.  
  


When Marissa got back to Summer's bedroom, she was clutching Mr. Bear and refused to meet Marissa in the eye. Marissa went about setting the things down and arranging the blankets on top of the mattress, giving Summer the time she needed to collect herself.  
  


"You must think I'm such a baby," Summer finally said, unable to hide the self-loathing that tinted her words dark.   
  


"I don't," Marissa said, shaking her head. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Summer into her arms. "I'm sorry, I haven't been a very good friend lately." Summer pulled back, looking stunned. "Don't deny it," Marissa continued, "I've been so wrapped up in my own life, I haven't been thinking about my best friend."  
  


Summer shrugged her shoulders, always having to keep up the pretense of being so damn tough; it just made her stubborn. "You have your own problems," she said, excusing Marissa's behaviour.   
  


"Even so, I still haven't been here for you. Not the same way you're always there for me," Marissa said, indicating her wrist.  
  


Summer recognized the bracelet right away. "Like it?"  
  


"Of course. It's too much."  
  


"You're keeping it," Summer said, firmly.   
  


"Okay, but only if you agree to do me a favour."  
  


Summer eyed her sceptically. "What?"  
  


"Next time you're hurting, tell me instead of pretending everything's all right."  
  


"Okay."  
  


Summer layed down on her mattress and Marissa got off the bed and layed down on her own pseudo bed.

__  
  


The next morning, in the shower, Summer touched her lips as water sluiced down her body. She didn't feel different, at least not texturally, but inside she was changed a little bit. Thinking about the kiss had consumed her every waking thought.  
  


Marissa had been dressed and ready to go by the time Summer rolled out of bed. She'd forgotten what an early-bird Marissa was. Summer had promised to hurry knowing the other girl was anxious to get to school and see Ryan, but when she got into the shower she'd lost track of time as her mind veered off to the night of the party and the missing gaps. That's when she knew a confrontation with Seth was inevitable.   
  


At school, Summer ushered Marissa down the hall. "Go find Ryan, I'll catch up with you later."  
  


Summer had one thing on her mind and one thing only. Kill Seth Cohen. Spotting the soon to be cadaver in question, Summer stormed down the hallway and made no pretense of sneaking up on him. It would be better if he heard her coming. That way he'd have a running start and wouldn't be entirely stripped of his pride by being slain by a girl.  
  


"Cohen!" she shouted, mildly surprised when people she didn't know looked at her. "Move along, people. Nothing to see here," she said to them, shooting daggers. One boy, a freshman, tripped over his shoelaces trying to get out of her way. Oh yes, the wrath of Summer was something to be feared.  
  


Seth turned, at first stunned, but then realizing who'd caused the commotion, he went back to digging in his locker. Affronted by his lack of emotion, Summer moved double-time.   
  


Seth managed to get his hand out of the way just in time before Summer slammed his locker loudly, effectively trapping the sleeve of his jacket still attached to his arm. "You said nothing happened!"  
  


Seth faced her, not hindered by his ensnared sleeve. "Uh, hello, Summer, good morning to you, too. I see that etiquette class is really paying off."   
  


Summer glowered. "Don't try to be cute. You said nothing happened the night of the party."  
  


"What? Nothing did happen. Zip. Zilch. Nada." Returning his attention to his jacket, he sensed Summer didn't plan on easing the pressure she had on his locker anytime soon. Her hand splayed the metal. It seemed safer for it to be there than to have her nails digging into his forearm.   
  


Summer watched him looking at her hand, his attention split. "We kissed, you jerk!"   
  


Seth tugged hard, ripping his jacket to get it free. He faced her, his mouth open but no sound coming out.   
  


She finally moved her hand and set it on her hip. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"  
  


Seth shrugged. "Actually, if you want to get technical, you kissed me."  
  


"I did not! Why would I kiss you?" she asked through gritted teeth, her voice steadily rising.  
  


Seth let his back hit the locker, seemingly comforted by the cool metal. "You're the one that did it and despite popular opinion, I don't have the market cornered on drunk girls' thoughts."  
  


Summer stepped closer, crowding his personal space. "You took advantage of me!"  
  


Seth rolled his eyes, letting out a guffaw of laughter. "Yeah, 'cause I was the one jamming my tongue down your throat and groping your ass."  
  


She pulled him roughly to the side. "Cohen, dammit, keep your voice down!"  
  


Seth held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, you brought it up, sweetheart. I was willing to repress the memories or chalk it up to some monumental fluke or an early birthday present from the man upstairs, but if you want to keep dredging it up, that's your business, just leave me out of it."  
  


Summer looked over her shoulder, saw the hallways was nearly empty and flicked her hair away from her face. Moving down the corridor, she found an empty classroom and walked in. Waiting a minute, she peeked her head out when Seth didn't follow. "Get in here!" she demanded.  
  


Seth stood still, if anything he back away. "Uh, no. No way. You get me alone and I'll never be heard from again."  
  


Summer crossed her arms under her breasts and glared at him. "Do I have to remind you of my rage blackouts?"  
  


"That's what I'm afraid of," he said, reluctantly brushing past her into the room.  
  


Summer closed the door behind them, staying in front of it so Seth couldn't leave. "Why'd you lie to me?"  
  


"Maybe because since you found out," he stopped, checked his watch, "-in the span of five minutes-- I've had my jacket torn, been accused of forcing myself on you and you've just threatened me with bodily harm. You know you're right, I should have told you in your bed where you could have suffocated me with your pillow or better yet, your kitchen where you had access to appliances."  
  


Summer jutted out her chin defiantly. "Why are you being so difficult?" She noticed his eyes changed. The green around the edges seemed to intensify. She felt a shiver run down her spine.   
  


"Gee, I don't know, you think I'm being difficult?" he replied sarcastically, straitening when she didn't see the humour. "'Cause maybe I just wish that you didn't have to be drunk to kiss me or to tell me how you feel? And maybe I knew you would react this way and I wanted to save myself the embarrassment, okay?"  
  


The interrogation was not taking a good turn. She could tell Seth was getting annoyed. Summer covered her mouth with her palm. "What did I say?" She fixated on that point, it was so much easier than dealing with Seth's hurt feelings.  
  


Seth scoffed. "Nothing. I just find it funny that you actually remember my name when you're drunk, but when you're cold sober, I'm Cohen."  
  


Summer's cheeks heated, she could feel the fire of embarrassment spread through her body, stroking everything and coating the tips of her ears a deep red. She looked at him, really looked at him. He shifted under her gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. It was so...cute. Ugh! She was not supposed to be thinking things like that. This was Seth Cohen. The only reason she was with him right now was to murder him. Sucking up her pride, she rolled her eyes. "Whatev."  
  


Seth nodded, laughing lowly, almost coldly. He let air pass between his teeth, staring out the window to avoid looking her way.  
  


After a few minutes silence, Summer cleared her throat. "So, what's the deal with Devon?"  
  


His voice was even and his spirits seemed to be intact. "There is no deal," he said, plainly.  
  


"There has to be a reason for him picking on you all the time."  
  


"Surprisingly enough, my existing is enough of a catalyst for his fists, but it didn't help that I got the lead in the play this year."  
  


"Stay away from him," Summer stated before she could think about it.  
  


He laughed. "Yes, Mommy."  
  


"I'm serious S-Cohen."  
  


"You almost sound concerned. Might my charms be working on you finally?"  
  


"In your dreams, Cohen. I just don't want to have to kiss that slime-ball."  
  


Seth seemed to accept this. He stood in front of her, waiting expectantly. Summer moved out of the way. He opened the door and turned back. "I'll see you at rehearsal?"   
  


Summer nodded and watched as he left the room and faded into the crowd in the hallway.   
  


_______________

Class had flown by. Summer declined Marissa's invitation to the Crab Shack and told her she'd see her at her house later as she had rehearsal. Marissa had smiled at her and Summer had the distinct feeling there was something she was missing; some private joke she didn't get.   
  


Seth was already on the stage going over his script when she got to the auditorium. She eyed Devon Anderson sitting in the crowd, staring menacingly at Seth. If Seth noticed, he didn't let on or maybe he was used to it; either way, he seemed unfazed.  
  


Mr. Birdman was late again. He was probably the least punctual teacher they knew. Talk about setting a bad example.   
  


Summer mounted the steps, taking her time walking over to Seth.  
  


"Cohen," Summer said curtly once she reached him.  
  


Seth lifted an eyebrow and smiled widely, highlighting his dimples. "Summer."  
  


"What are you so happy about?"  
  


"Nothing, just reading this here play," he said, holding it up for emphasis.   
  


"Um, okay," she said, eyeing him, before she took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. Summer took the time to skim through the pages, purposefully skipping Act two. Scanning the text, the directors notes on act five caught her attention. She re-read the passage just to be sure. 

"No way!" she shrieked.   
  


Seth rolled his head and looked at her lazily. "What?"  
  


"There are three kisses in this play! Not one, not two, but three! What's this kid some sort of sex freak or something? Did you know there were three kisses?"  
  


Seth smirked, his eyebrows quirked. "Yup," he answered smoothly.  
  


She looked at him incredulously. "Were you going to tell me?"  
  


"Nope," he replied just as smooth as before.   
  


"You suck," she said, pouting. She flipped her text to the front cover. "This Aiden Wilson is definitely a pervert. Who puts three kisses in the same play?"   
  


Seth laughed, ignoring her tirade.   
  


Summer huffed. It was going to hard enough to kiss Seth once, but three times was pushing it. How was she supposed to remain detached when she had to kiss those lovely lips three times? Summer mentally kicked herself. His lips were not lovely. Who the hell talked like that anyway?  
  


Mr. Birdman stumbled in fifteen minutes later, hands overflowing with papers and minor set props. "Sorry, I'm late," he said, dropping everything in a pile and straightening. "Let's start with Act Three. Could our Ethan and Emma please take centre stage?"  
  


Seth and Summer exchanged glances, standing up and moving to the middle of the stage.  
  


"Excellent! Summer, I'm glad to see you're back with us today, let's not make it a habit, okay?" Mr. Birdman said from the sidelines. "Now, Ethan has just confessed his love for Emma, so Seth you need to really sell it. Summer, Emma is conflicted you'll remember; torn between her feelings for Ethan and what her peers will think."  
  


Seth reached down and took Summer's hand, but she pulled it away quickly. "Ew, what do you think you're doing?"  
  


"Acting," Seth mumbled, looking dejected.   
  


Picking up her script, she followed the stage directions, seeing the action scripted. "Oh," Summer said, feeling like and A-class bitch. "Sorry." She took his hand before he could respond and gave him a small smile.  
  


"And action!"  
  


"'I can't Ethan, it's too hard'," Summer said in the voice of Emma, a soft, sweet tone. She tried not to notice the tingle running up her arm, originating from the hand Seth held in his own.  
  


Seth rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and looked directing into her eyes. Seth was surprisingly focussed when he wanted to be. He didn't even try to joke around. He looked up from his text and went for it. "'I can't do this anymore, Emma. I'm tired of sneaking around. I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you. It's like you're ashamed of me. Is that it, Emma? Are you ashamed?'"  
  


Summer pulled her hand away, this time because it was in the script. The words hit a sore spot and Summer felt her face flush.   
  


They continued the rest of the third Act. Summer actually felt herself become impassioned by the sentimentality of the play; something about the character of Emma was identifiable with her own psyche.  
  


"Let's take five," Mr. Bidman announced, taking off his glasses and polishing them on his dress shirt.   
  


Summer was glad for the break.   
  


"Summer, you're doing great. Seth, you could use a little work on your delivery. This is a play, not a race, try to slow down that tongue of yours. The rest of you are doing really well," he said, his attention shifting to the supporting cast.  
  


"Yeah, Cohen," Summer chastised, happy for the praise from Mr. Birdman and not above rubbing it in Seth's face.  
  


Smirking, Seth leaned down close to her ear, his breath fanning over her cheek. "Do you really want to be making fun of me when we both know exactly where my tongue has been, and that slowing it down wasn't a problem then, because you certainly weren't complaining, sugar," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips the whole time.  
  


Summer's jaw went slack, her voice caught in her throat. Just as she thought up a witty comeback, Mr. Birdman interrupted her.  
  


"Enough with the whispering, you two. There's still a lot of work to be done."  
  


Act four proved a little more difficult. Summer had barely read through it, let alone started to memorize her lines. Seth was doing just as poorly.   
  


"That's enough for today," Mr. Birdman finally announced, watching his cast begin to fade. "Seth, Summer, would you mind staying a minute?"  
  


Everyone filed out of the auditorium. Summer and Seth walked over to Mr. Birdman after they'd gathered their belongings.   
  


Readjusting his glasses, Mr. Birdman looked between the pair. "We don't have as much time as I would like for after school rehearsals and I know you're both doing your best to learn the lines, but I think more practice would be a huge benefit. I realize what I'm going to ask might seem a bit unfair, considering how hard you're both working, but would it be at all possible for you to study outside of rehearsal as well?"  
  


"You mean, like, together?" Seth and Summer said in unison, pivoting around to look at each other.  
  


Mr. Birdman's grin broadened. "Well, yes."

____________________  
  


To be continued....


	8. 8

Hey all, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get a new chapter out, but I've been incredibly busy and sick. Thanks so much for the reviews. You all kick ass!  
__________________________  
Seth and Summer exchanged weary glances.   
  


"Steven, I told you: white light centre, red light to the left," Mr. Birdman called to a blonde boy who was part of the sound and light crew, his attention split. He hadn't noticed the hesitation between his star actors. "Derek, have you gotten the mic hooked up yet?" He shook his head, took off his glasses again and started polishing them unconsciously. His cheeks were reddening by the second, a sure sign that his blood pressure was up. Tearing his attention away from the clumsy freshman, Mr. Birdman spared a look Summer and Seth's way. "All right then, it's all settled. " Without waiting for a response from the pair, Mr. Birdman toddled away.  
  


Seth scratched behind his ear, bitting the inside of his cheek. He was worried that Summer was still upset about the whole kiss thing. "So, when do you want to do this?"  
  


Summer seemed to be watching a group of students untangling wires, he wasn't sure at first she'd heard him. "Summer?"  
  


"We can go to my house, Marissa is with Ryan so it'll be quiet." She didn't bother to look at him, instead she readjusted the strap of her book bag.   
  


His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but other than that he showed no outward emotion. "Okay."  
  


Seth followed Summer out of the building and toward her car, waiting while she unlocked the doors and then he slipped into the passenger's seat.  
  


Summer got into the car and threw her bag in the back, putting the key in the ignition and starting it up. She turned and eyed Seth expectantly. He felt more than saw her eyes on him.   
  


"What?"   
  


"Seatbelt?"   
  


A slow smile spread across his face. Who knew Summer was so concerned about car safety? Then again, he remembered the way she drove. A seatbelt was definitely a must.  
  


"Cohen!"  
  


"Huh?"  
  


"You totally just zoned out. Seatbelt. Now," she commanded, tapping her nails against the steering wheel.  
  


Seth reached over and grabbed the metal part of the seatbelt, dragging it over his body and bucked up. "Happy?" He looked to her for approval. She scowled and rolled her eyes.   
  


Seth turned his attention to the window. He watched the palm trees pass by and tried to block out the honks and shouts coming from other drivers as Summer made up her own road rules. The tires squealed as Summer took a turn a little too sharply. Seth winced.   
  


When the car finally pulled into Summer's driveway, Seth checked to make sure he still had all his limbs.  
  


"That was...interesting. I think there was one driver that you didn't piss off, maybe we should get back on the road just so he doesn't feel left out."  
  


"We got here, didn't we?" she asked, somewhat sardonically.  
  


"Barely," Seth mumbled under his breath.  
  


Summer led them inside, resetting the alarm when it let off a shrill beep.   
  


"Make yourself at home," Summer said, less than enthusiastically.   
  


Seth bobbed his head and looked around. It had only been a day since the last time he'd been there, but it felt so different, colder somehow. He watched as Summer settled herself on the couch in the living room. She tucked her legs underneath her and began to pull out her books, searching for her copy of the play. Finding it, she opened it, her lips moving as she read.   
  


Seth couldn't take his eyes away. He felt light-headed. Whether it was the fact that he hadn't eaten since lunch or that Summer just looked so right, he couldn't tell.   
  


When he still hadn't moved a minute later, Summer looked at him through her eyelashes. Her skin turned a soft pink. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she said, not harshly.  
  


"Like what?" he asked, feeling his own skin heat.  
  


"I don't know, like you are."  
  


He chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. Summer shook her head and smiled. "Come on, I don't have all night. _Some_ of us have lives," she teased, good-naturedly.  
  


"Don't worry, I was only going to play video games and eat junk food until bedtime anyway, I'm sure this'll be better."  
  


"I was talking about me."  
  


"Of course you were." He strolled over to her with a bounce in his step and a lightness in his heart. This was better. The tension that had cropped up earlier seemed to drain away. Sitting down next to her, he pulled out his own, slightly crumpled, text.   
  


"You're so delusional and completely hopeless."  
  


"Yeah, but you like me anyway."  
  


Summer didn't bother to disagree.   
  


"Let's just get started, Cohen," she said, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.  
  


"Sure thing, my little buttercup," Seth said, wistfully.   
  


"Oh, God, not this again," Summer groaned, trying to stop smiling, but failing miserably.   
  


Seth's lips pulled tight, his finger tapping his chin. "A nickname is a very important part of any relationship, Summer."  
  


"Good thing we're not _in_ a relationship," Summer said, caustically.  
  


"Yet," Seth said, brushing off her comment. "See, I think it's only right that I get to call you some sorta nickname, since you insist on calling me Cohen."  
  


"No," Summer flat-out rejected, returning her attention to the text.  
  


"Why not? It's perfectly fair."  
  


She looked up at him, snorting. "I'm using your name, it just happens to be your last name, it's not like I'm calling you snuggle-bunny or something."   
  


"Hmm...snuggled-bunny," he repeated slowly, feeling the words out, "I kinda like that. How's my little snuggle-bunny today? Would my snuggle-bunny like to start reading her lines? Does my snuggle-bunny mind if I get a little closer?"  
  


"Stop that!"  
  


"Stop what?" he asked, innocently.  
  


"Calling me _that_."  
  


"Aww, is my snuggle-bunny a wittle bit cwanky?" Seth teased, reaching over to rub her shoulder.  
  


Summer looked up from her play, obviously figuring out that Seth could not be ignored. She tried to give him a withering glare, but he just returned her gaze and peered at her until she broke. "You have problems," she finally said, giving in to her urge to smile. "Thanks."  
  


"Anything for a smile," he claimed and immediately started flipping through his text, looking over at her play to make sure they were on the same page. "Should we start?" When he looked up she was still staring at him. "Snuggle-bunny?"  
  


Summer swatted his arm and shook her head. "You're such a cad. It's your line."  
  


"Right," he said, smirking.   
  


They went to work on the play, trying to recite as much as they could without help from the text, but it became clear they still had a lot of work to do when every other line had to be aided.  
  


An hour later, Summer closed her book and sighing, threw it across the room. Seth watched it sail through the air and crash loudly against the wall, sliding down and twisting the pages unnaturally. "This is so boring. This play _seriously_ sucks."  
  


Seth pulled his attention from the poor mistreated script and looked at her. "We could always work on Act two. Act Two is most definitely not boring."  
  


Summer rolled her eyes and leaned back against the couch cushions.   
  


Seth rolled his head to the side against the back of the sofa so he was looking at Summer. After a minute she seemed to notice. "Um, what?"  
  


"Hmm?" he asked, snapping out of it. "Nothing."  
  


They looked at each other for a few minutes before Summer started to get annoyed. "Just ask."  
  


"Ask what?"  
  


She crossed her arms under her breasts and shifted her legs so she was turned slightly sideways, mimicking his position. "Whatever burning question it is that you have for me."  
  


Seth curled one of his legs under the other and hesitated. After a beat. "When's you Dad getting back?"  
  


Summer's eyes got dark. She shrugged. "Sometime next week. Friday, I think."  
  


Seth nodded. He cleared his throat, burning to ask another question. Summer looked at him expectantly. "What exactly does your Dad do anyway?"  
  


Summer smoothed her hair away from her face, clearly uncomfortable. For a minute, Seth thought she wasn't going to answer. He was about to pick up his play when her voice cut through the silent air. "Hostile takeovers or something. I'm not really sure on the specifics. He buys companies that are in trouble and sells them off piece by piece. You know, like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman," she divulged. She chuckled but there was no power behind it.  
  


"Huh." He looked down and began to fidget with the corners of his text.  
  


"Yup."  
  


Seth was busy contemplating asking her about her Mother and why she was afraid to be alone when he felt her soft fingertip smoothing over his cheek. He startled and raised his eyes. She was inches away, close enough for him to feel her breath on his skin.  
  


Seth wasn't sure whether he was breathing or not. He took a gulp of air just to be safe. Summer's eyes were wide, alarmed, when they finally met his, as if her actions were as much a shock to her as they were to him.  
  


"You had an eyelash," she said, lamely pulling her hand away and settling back.   
  


Seth sprang up from the couch and paced. "You hungry? I'm hungry. Let's eat something."

He was pretty damn sure she was going to kiss him just then. An awkward silence fell between them. Seth hated awkward silences. 

Summer stood, motioning toward the kitchen. "I'll make us some sandwiches."  
  


Seth bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. "You're going to... Maybe I'll just wait 'til I get home." Just like that the tension was broken.   
  


"Cohen, I'm perfectly capable of making a sandwich," she tutted, easing past him.   
  


Seth breathed in, catching her scent that lingered in the air. He was an idiot. Getting his wits about him, he cut in with a sarcastic comment. "This I _gotta_ see."  
  


Summer was busy pulling ingredients out of the fridge when he sat down at one of the bar stools that surrounded the kitchen counter. He noticed her cheeks were a pretty shade of pink. Interesting.   
  


He leaned forward, watching her. "Okay, I have a really important question for you."  
  


Summer looked up, noticed how close he was and pivoted around to grab something else from the refrigerator. "Um, okay. Ask, I guess."  
  


Seth smiled, rubbing his hands together menacingly. "Okay, here goes-" He stopped. "You sure you're ready for this?"  
  


Summer looked at him strangely.   
  


"I know that look," he joked. "I'll ask before you're overcome with another rage blackout. Do you like mushrooms?"  
  


"That's your important question?" she asked, incredulously, pulling out a few slices from a loaf of grain bread.  
  


"Hey," he said, feigning insult. "You can tell a lot about a person by their food choices."  
  


Summer stopped, cocked her head to the side. "Huh. I never really thought about that. That makes a lot of sense when you stop and think about it. _Eww_, what am I saying? Jeez Cohen, you sure know how to keep things interesting." She shook her head, laughing to herself softly.  
  


He smirked, loving the way her laughter sounded. "So I've been told. Now, mushrooms or no?"  
  


"Is this a trick question? 'Cause knowing you, whatever I say will be used against me."  
  


"It's not a trick, I swear. Okay, I'll let you out of this one, but the next one no help from me. Deal?"  
  


Summer squinted at him, waiting for him to make a joke, but she saw he was serious. "Okay, deal. Now what does it say about me if I like mushrooms."  
  


"Well, besides that fact that you enjoy eating fungus-"  
  


"Ew! Gross, Cohen."  
  


"I know. Okay, let's see, mushrooms..." He put his hands together and made a fist, propping up his head while he watched her stack cold meat and cheese on each sandwich. His stomach growled. "Well, if they're wild mushrooms, I suppose that says you're adventurous and carefree... and well, wild. And if they're farmed mushrooms--you know, like, those little button ones-I suppose that says you're comfortable with being part of a group, uh, conforming, if you will. While they're still technically in the mushroom family, they're really just cheap imitations of the real, tasty thing."  
  


Summer smiled. "I hate those little button mushrooms."  
  


"And the wild ones?"  
  


"_Those_ I like." Her eyes shone brightly, fondly, at Seth.  
  


Seth lifted his head and snapped his fingers. "See, I knew that about you. Food is, like, the ultimate crystal ball."   
  


Summer added lettuce and a tomato to the sandwiches and closed them up. "You just totally made that up, didn't you?"   
  


Seth shrugged. "It's a science, Summer...um, Foodology Millions of dollars have been spent researching this very subject."  
  


Summer nodded, handing him his sandwich on a napkin and then caught the glimmer in his eyes. "Liar."  
  


Seth laughed. They ate in comfortable silence.

__

"So Summer, where did you acquire such fantastic sandwich making skills?" he asked after he'd swallowed the last bite.  
  


"Like I said, my step-mom's not much of a cook and a girl's gotta eat, right?"  
  


"Right you are. Thanks."  
  


Summer hopped off her stool beside Seth and threw away her napkin. She reached into the fridge. "Want another soda?" Seth nodded and gladly accepted the Mountain Dew. "I think there's still some ice cream in here, too. Want some?"  
  


Seth's eyes narrowed. "Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that again."  
  


"Huh? Falling for what?" Summer asked, standing on her tip-toes to get to the very back of the freezer.  
  


Seth chuckled, pointing at her even though she couldn't see him do it. "Oh, I'm onto you. Ryan explained the whole thing to me."  
  


"The whole thing?" She stopped looking and turned to look him in the eye, curious.  
  


Seth bobbed his head slowly. "Yup, it's called Seduction by Ice Cream."  
  


Summer raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. "Seduction by...? That Ryan's a real fountain of knowledge, isn't he."  
  


"Musta learned about it in Chino," he said absently, touching his fingers to his chin in contemplation. "Seduction by Ice Cream knows no bounds, it crosses all races, social and financial statuses. You women think you're fooling everyone." Seth shook his head adamantly.   
  


"Uh-huh. Do you have a fever? Should I call someone? The looney bin maybe?" Summer dead-panned, pulling out the carton of ice cream.  
  


"What're you doing?" he asked, watched as she reached for a bowl, her shirt riding up allowing him a slight peek of her midriff. Clearly an accident, right? "Did you not just hear a word I said?"  
  


She looked between the cold confection and him. "Yeah, I heard your little spiel," she answered, digging a spoon into the ice cream and placing a scope into her bowl. "Did I understand it?" she asked, not looking up this time. "No, definitely not."  
  


"Okay, I'm going to go over it one more time, pay attention. No woman, especially you," he said, gesturing to the very cute way she scooped out the ice cream, "can eat ice cream without looking all seductive and sexy and sex-kittenish."   
  


"What? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," she said, licking her finger where a little ice cream had melted.  
  


Seth sighed, giving up. He was destined to be tortured. "Clearly, you've never watched yourself eat ice cream," he mumbled, accepting the bowl she offered him.  
  


____________ 

It had been almost a week since their first after school rehearsal, alternating between the Cohen's and Summer's house. It gave Marissa and Ryan time to be together since Seth was able to stay with Summer until Marissa got back or wanted to go home to Summer's, where she was still staying.   
  


Seth didn't mind one bit. It didn't even particularly bother him--well, it did, just not as much as he would have thought, because, hello! he got to spend all his free time with Summer and there was nothing better than that--that during the day Summer acted like they were complete strangers until they got into rehearsal, because as soon as they got out of school, they settled into an easy, comfortable friendship where they could joke and Summer could be herself - the girl he had come to respect and even admire. She'd even opened up to him a little about her Mother and Father, though, not a lot. The tiny speck of information was music to his ears because he knew how hard it was for her to say anything at all.   
  


She had shown him her prize camera--an Agfa Solinette 2 circa 1953--she'd found and restored herself and even taken a roll of black and white of them together -just to make sure it worked right. He was amazed by her knowledge when it came to art; from Monet to Picasso, to Michelangelo and so on. She knew it all. Loved it all. As great at she was at painting, she excelled at photography and sketches. She had books and books filled with sketches and portfolios filled with pictures. Apparently her Father didn't really understand her love of art, but even so, had installed a darkroom for her to use at her convenience.  
  


"Come on, I want to show you something," Summer told him, dropping her bag by the front door and grabbing his hand, leading him to the dark room. "Watch your head," she pointed out, as they entered the room.   
  


Seth ducked and followed closely behind her. The room had a faded chemical smell and was cast in hazy red light. A string hung above a few flat containers that held various clear liquids, pegs propped up a row of black and white photos.   
  


Seth twisted around, looking at each one. "Wow, they turned out great."  
  


"You think?"  
  


"Yeah, I do," he said, pulling one of them goofing-around from a peg. In the picture, Seth was looking at Summer and she was laughing, probably at something he'd just said. "Look at you," he said, shaking his head, "you're beautiful."  
  


Summer flushed, but it wasn't noticeable in the light. "We should...practice," Summer suggested.  
  


"Hmm? Oh yeah, right. Can I keep this one?" he asked, hope in his eyes.   
  


Summer smiled, nodding. "If you want. Just don't show anyone," she added, teasing.  
  


Seth snapped his fingers, feigning disappointment. "Damn, there goes my plan to publish it in The Plank."  
  


"Next to one of your 'limericks'?" she questioned, rolling her eyes.  
  


Seth grabbed his chest with one hand, leaning on the counter heavily. "_Ouch_, that hurts. I'm telling you, they're all fascists. I think they're afraid of the powerful effect my limericks might have on the general public. People should not be denied my genius."  
  


"Riiight. So, am I ever going to get to read one of these limericks?"  
  


Seth put his hand on Summer's shoulders and looked down at her. "I just don't think you're ready," he answered, mockingly.   
  


"Oh, _please_," Summer said sarcastically, backing away toward the door.  
  


"It's true," he said following. Seth lost his footing, not looking where he was going and lurched forward after hitting the side of a bucket of toner with his sneaker. Summer caught him--barely-- as they barrelled backward, stopped only by the closed door. "Uh..."  
  


"Smooth, Cohen," Summer breathed, her eyes sliding to his lips.  
  


Before he knew what he was doing and before logic could enter into the equation, Seth pressed his lips against hers and was kissing her... Well, he would have been had she not moved out of the way and he pecked the door instead.   
  


Seth turned, heat spreading in his cheeks and looking awfully sheepish. "Sorry," he mumbled.   
  


Summer looked amused. "It's okay." With that, she passed him and walked out the door like nothing had happened at all.  
  


------------- 

By the time Seth composed himself, and gotten over the initial embarrassment, Summer was already settled on the couch with her play opened in her lap.   
  


Seth took the seat next to her, digging through his ill-organized backpack and pulling out his tattered copy of the play. Flipping it open, they watched together as a folded, colourful paper sailed out; floating gracefully in the air, before landing on the ground by Summer's feet. Summer reached for it immediately.  
  


"What's this?" she asked, holding it up.  
  


"Hmm, what? Oh, that? It's nothin', you wouldn't be interested." He attempted to grab it away from her, knowing that would only make her that much more determined.  
  


"Cohen, what is it?"  
  


"It's _nothing_," he assured her again with a smile, plucking the creased paper from her hands.

She reached for it, but he held it above his head. Summer got up on her knees and held his arm, trying to draw it closer, but he was much stronger than she expected. They struggled. Seth coming out the victor each time.   
  


Switching tactics, Summer practically draped herself over his lap. "Give it to me," she said, and it came out seductive.   
  


He looked down, noticed her knee between his thighs and forgot the human body needed oxygen to live. "'kay." Whoever said Seth couldn't manipulate people clearly hadn't seen him at his most creative.  
  


Summer gripped the paper, scrunching it a little and ruffled his all ready messy hair. "Thanks."  
  


Seth righted himself and coughed. "Yeah, no problem."  
  


Opening the flier, Summer read the brightly coloured words. Seth watched as realization filtered onto her face. "It's for an art show. A contest?"  
  


"Mmm-hmm."  
  


"Where'd you get this?"  
  


"I asked around. Researched a little at the library.. Hey, did you know there are actual books there? And there's like this huge bulletin board in the lobby with all this information?"  
  


"_You_ did this for _me_?" Seth watched her features soften, her eyes turn dark.   
  


He shrugged, liking the way she seemed to glow. "I really haven't done anything yet, I just showed you some crappy flier."

  
  


"You did more than that."  
  


Everything became amplified and he made himself believe he could actually hear her pulse as it picked up speed. She wet her lips and after a moment's hesitation, she leaned in and her mouth was on his, soft and warm and smooth. He responded without another thought, letting his hand find the nape of her neck, drawing her closer.   
  


Automatically, she responded, snaking her arms around his neck and letting her fingers twist in his short curls. Seth let his hand slide down her back and felt her shiver. He smiled into the kiss, nearly stopping his lips from moving. She pushed against him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her heart pounding to an unsteady rhythm as they sank down onto the plush surface of the couch cushions.. The smile fell away from his lips and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue find hers. One of them moaned, though neither was really sure who.   
  


The lock on the front door turned noisily and the alarm began to buzz. They scattered apart and struggled to sit up. Summer pushed against his chest for leverage, stood up too fast and had to sit back down. From the corner of his eye, Seth watched a figure enter the room and he could hear Summer's startled gasp.  
  


"_Daddy_!?"  
  


"Summer," he answered curtly, looking at Seth.  
  


"You're home early," she said, biting her lip.   
  


"Dee-Dee wanted to get back, she has an appointment with Dr. Riecher on Monday," he recited, his attention unwavering on Seth.  
  


"Oh," Summer said, with what sounded like disappointment. "Where is she now?"  
  


"She had to stop at the pharmacy, she'll be home soon. Who's your friend?"  
  


Seth stood, staring at the tall, slightly graying man wearing an expensive business suit and a tired expression. He felt sick. A sudden rage slowly trickled through his blood. 

------

To be continued.......


	9. 9

Notes: Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry this fic is so crappy, I seriously have no idea what I'm doing. lol Yeah, I guess the last part of the previous chapter seemed a bit maudlin. Heh. Sorry! Anyway, I have some ideas for this fic, but I could hypothetically end it within the next few chapters, too. I kind of have a like/hate relationship with this fic and I don't want it to start getting annoying or whatever. Um... I guess just let me know if people are still interested. Thanks!  
  


_____________________________   
  


Seth stepped forward and offered his hand. "Seth Cohen," he said, shaking Mr. Roberts' hand.  
  


Summer watched as Seth jaw tensed and he shoved his hands into his pockets.   
  


"Any relation to Sandy Cohen?" Mr. Roberts asked, his nose high in the air.   
  


Seth raised his eyes to meet Mr. Roberts accusatory stare. "Yeah, he's my father. Do you know him?"  
  


"No, not really," he answered, returning his attention to his daughter. "Why was the alarm on?"  
  


Summer looked at him meekly. "I-I always put it on when I'm alone. I must have forgotten to reset it."  
  


"Oh, all right then. Carry on with whatever you two were doing."   
  


That stung. Summer tried not to look hurt. Nowadays her father was so removed from her life, she could have told him she was about to take Seth to her room to have sex and he wouldn't have batted an eyelash.  
  


He didn't care about anything except for his work and women --and there had been a lot of them when her Mother initially left. Now that he had Dee-Dee, he only rarely came home with one of his 'secretaries.' At least, it was sort of an improvement.   
  


"Don't you want to know what we were doing?"   
  


"Summer, I don't have time for your games right now, I've got a big deal coming up. Do you want to tell me or not?"  
  


Games? And this man was supposed to be her father?   
  


Summer looked at Seth, who smiled at her reassuringly, though she could tell he wasn't all too impressed with the man she called Dad. "We're in a play. _I'm_ in a play, Daddy."  
  


"Oh, that's nice," he said, sounding rather bored. "It'll look good on your transcript when you apply to college. Have fun, kids."  
  


"That's it? That's all you have to say? Summer asked, incensed.  
  


"Like I said, I have business to attend to. I'll be in the study," he said, flipping through the mail that had been neatly stacked by the front door. He stopped, picking up a manilla envelope and frowned. "Nice to meet you, Seth," Mr. Roberts said over his shoulder as he proceeded out of the room and up the stairs without a look back.  
  


Summer turned to Seth, her lip trembling as she tried so bravely not to give in to her emotions. Her eyes were hollow, devoid of emotion; there was no longer venom or anger...just empty brown eyes teeming with unshed tears.  
  


"Summer?"  
  


Summer shook her head, unable to express anything verbally.   
  


Wordlessly, Seth reached out and pulled Summer into his arms, crushing her head against his chest. He laid a kiss over her forehead.   
  


The stood like that for an endless moment until reality clicked in. "Cohen, ew! What am I doing? This is so not happening," Summer said, wiping her eyes and pushing Seth away.  
  


Seth backed up, giving her room. "What?"  
  


"Look, I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay. I just... I have a lot of things to do." This was not what she needed. Why was it that every time Seth came to her house she ended up crying? Summer turned her back to him, went to the couch and began to pick up her things.  
  


Seth scratched the back of his neck, edging closer to her. "Yeah. Um...okay."  
  


Summer could see the confusion in his eyes as he tried to look at her, but she just wasn't strong enough to deal with it then. She had other things on her mind and her feelings for Seth Cohen were not something she wanted to be thinking about.  
  


Hearing the front door shut, Summer lowered herself to the couch and put her knees to her chest, burying her face. She felt weak and miserable.  
  


Seth filled a gap in her she hadn't known she was missing. He was some small fragment, like a chip in a teacup that was barely noticeable to the naked eye, but to a collector it stood out like lightening. He let her be herself; free, alive and vibrant, he let her hurt and show pain. She'd let him see her cry. Again. Damn him!

____________

"I have the best news!" Marissa squealed, bounding through the pool house doors, seemingly coming out of no where and knocking Ryan back onto his bed.  
  


"What?" he laughed, pleased by her good mood.   
  


She could barely contain her excitement, her eyes were huge and alive with it. "My dad got a job!"  
  


Ryan settled back against his pillows, pulling her with him. "Whoa, really? Where? Doing what?"  
  


Marissa closed her eyes and rested her head against his cotton-covered chest. "Emerson and James Advertising. It's entry level, but they were impressed and said there was a lot of room for growth."  
  


"Wow, Marissa, that's really good news."  
  


She rolled so she was facing him. "Dad was so excited, he called me right after the interview. It's going to mean long hours and a lot of hard work to start with, but he says he's up for the challenge."  
  


Ryan looked down at her from an odd angle, craned his neck so he could meet her eyes. "It's going to be a big change from what he was doing."  
  


"He sounds really happy, Ryan. I haven't heard him that happy in years."  
  


He touched the side of her face, smoothed his fingers along her jaw. "If you think he sounds happy, you should hear how you sound. I like this, it's nice."  
  


Marissa smiled, real big and honest and yet a little awkwardly because it seemed such a foreign concept to be happy. "I think things are really going to be okay, you know?" She rested her head back on his chest and closed her eyes again, comforted by Ryan's fingers gently gliding on her skin.  
  


"Yeah," Ryan said softly, watching as her breathing evened out and she fell into sleep. 

______

Seth knocked on the pool house door lightly before he opened it finding Ryan and Marissa sprawled on the bed; Ryan awake, watching television and Marissa slumbering peacefully.   
  


"Hey, Ryan, man, can I talk to you? I kinda need some advice." Seth had enough tact to whisper as he gestured to the lounge chairs outside.   
  


Ryan nodded and Seth left the room, allowing Ryan to gently ease Marissa's prone form off of himself and cover her up with a blanket, laying a kiss on her forehead.   
  


Seth was all ready waiting in one of the chairs by the pool when Ryan got outside. Ryan tipped his chin at him, giving him permission to speak.  
  


Seth started right in, not even making some lame joke about charging Marissa rent since she spent so much time there and everything. "So, I met Summer's Dad today."  
  


Ryan took the seat next to him, stretched out his legs and folded his arms across his chest. "And?"  
  


Seth's leg was doing a good impression of a Mexican jumping bean under the table as he nervously fidgeted. "And he just seemed so...distant. Cold almost. He was there and I dunno, I just wanted to, like, say something."  
  


Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"  
  


"Just something, you know? Like, why the hell does he leave her alone all the time and doesn't he see what it does to her and how can he choose some drug addict over his own daughter and why does he-"  
  


"Hey, slow down."   
  


"Yeah, sorry, man, but I'm just so...so-"  
  


"Pissed off?" Ryan supplied.  
  


"Yeah! And like, I try to help Summer and one minute she's like all about us and the next she's, like, a freakin' popsicle. I just don't get it."  
  


"I never thought I'd say this, but I kinda understand where Summer's coming from. Maybe you should ask your Dad for help, I mean he deals with..._this_ sort of thing all the time."  
  


"What sort of thing? What does that mean?"  
  


Ryan stared at the water in the pool as it moved with the breeze. "You know, kids like Summer...and me."  
  


Seth was silent for a long time, which was a feat in itself. Clearly, he had a lot to think about. "Hey Ryan?"  
  


"Hmm?"  
  


"I'm glad you got caught boosting that car," he said, a small smile on his face.  
  


Ryan nodded. "Yeah, me too."

_____

During the day, Summer never had a hard time holding in the pain in her heart, it was during the long hours of the night where darkness claimed the sky and dark thoughts claimed her mind that she was reminded just how lonely and loveless she was.  
  


Worse of all, slowly her heart was beginning to open and she was falling for Seth Cohen and she had no plans of catching herself.   
  


The portentous decision she had made years ago to remain detached from everyone was going to bite her in the ass if she wasn't careful.  
  


Summer fell into bed and cried herself to sleep.   
  


By the time morning rolled around, Summer had effectively repressed all her heartbreak and her mask was back, firmly in place.  
  
  
  


* * *

Seth hated gym class. Not only did he hate all the stupid rope climbing, chin-ups and endurance tests, he also hated any and all competitive sports. Not for the reasons one would think. He didn't mind being picked last or almost last, nor did he mind being made fun of for his less than adequate skills, what he did mind was that every class since the play had started Devon and Braiden had managed to distract their teacher while inflicting some type of pain on him. Whether it be a baseball to the back or a soccer ball to the chest, his torturers always managed to get in their shots while no one seemed to be looking. Even Ryan, who had P.E. with him had yet to witness one of their assaults and Seth refused to go running to him for protection.   
  


"Dude, why do they make these shorts so bloody...short?" Seth grumbled in the corner as he pulled on shorts in the school colours, maroon and white, with a large crest on the corner. He shoved a pair of brown cords into his locker and shut the door.  
  


"They're shorts, Seth," Ryan said, shaking his head.  
  


"Yeah, but they're so short," he whined, "like, freakishly short."  
  


"Mine are fine," Ryan commented, pulling his shirt on.  
  


"Yeah, but you're freakishly short, too," Seth countered, his smile dropping when he caught Ryan's warning look. "Anyway, so I heard Marissa's Dad got that job at Emerson and James Advertising, she must be pretty stoked."  
  


Ryan smiled up at Seth from his place on the floor where he was tying his shoes. "Yeah, she's excited. She's going to have a special dinner for him."  
  


"That's nice. She isn't cooking, is she?" Seth asked, tugging his freakishly short shorts down again.  
  


"Nah, take out," Ryan answered, standing.   
  


Seth led the way out of the locker room. "Huh, good move. The last time she cooked something you got that rash, remember? I think we should send my Mom and your girlfriend to, like, cooking school or something."  
  


Ryan laughed. "Kirsten needs more help than anyone can give her. It's a lost cause," he said, stretching his arms over his head.   
  


Seth smirked, pulling his shirt down to compensate for the shortness of his shorts. "You're probably right, the last thing we need is for my Mom to start experimenting in the kitchen again. I still don't think I'll ever be able to eat carrots again."  
  


Ryan pulled his arm across his chest, released it and then did the same with his other arm. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that whole carrot soup thing."  
  


"How could you forget?" Seth asked, incredulously. "Every time I see something orange I get the shakes. I can't even look at Nicole Kidman anymore...you know, 'cause of the hair?"  
  


"Yeah, I got that." Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. 

Devon, followed by his two cronies, came out of the locker room laughing uproariously.  
  


Seth turned, his body tensing. He cast a nervous look their way. Ryan noticed.   
  


"That guy still bugging you?" Ryan inquired, pointing to the tall blonde.   
  


Seth shrugged.   
  


Ryan's eyes darkened. "Want me to...?"  
  


Seth waved him off. "Nah, it's fine. He's harmless, really. Well, mostly."  
  


"Is that why you come home with bruises all the time?"  
  


"Just leave it alone, man," Seth answered, embarrassed. He walked away, leaving Ryan to stare at his back. Seth moved to the other side of the room where a bunch of guys were milling around waiting for the Coach to pass them things from the equipment room.  
  


Ryan darted looks between Devon and his crew and Seth. Figuring all was well, he pulled his attention from them and grabbed a soccer ball from the rack and began to practice his footwork.  
  


Seth waited patiently for the Coach to get some type of game plan going. He was too busy talking about last week's football game to pay attention to the rest of the students.   
  


"Hey, Cohen, come 'ere," Devon called.   
  


Seth turned, his shoulders slumping. He took a deep breath. "What?" he asked, without moving.  
  


"I said come here, you little queer," Devon spat, his light eyes hardening.  
  


"Yeah, maybe later," he said, sarcastically and started to walk away. Devon and Braiden trailed him, cutting him off.  
  


"My boy was talking to you," said Braiden, slinging an arm around Devon's shoulders.  
  


Seth eyes darted between the muscular jock-types, hanging over each other. He had to hold in a smile. "And you're calling me queer?" Seth mumbled under his breath. Apparently he wasn't quite as quiet as he thought because he felt the pressure of Devon's forearm pressing against his throat and his back grating against the concrete wall of the gymnasium.  
  


"Hey!" Ryan called, grabbing Devon by the sleeve of his shirt and pulling him off of Seth. "What's your problem?"  
  


Seth, touched the tender skin at his throat, taking in deep breaths to get air back into his lungs. He looked at Ryan appreciatively and a little embarrassed, but Ryan was too busy string down Devon to notice.   
  


"Stay out of this," Braiden piped up, pushing against Ryan's chest. Ryan didn't budge, instead he shoved Braiden back.   
  


"I wasn't talking to you," Ryan said, deadly low.  
  


Braiden rolled his eyes, crossing his arm overs his broad chest.   
  


"What're you going to do about it, Chino? There aren't any cars for you to steal or fires to set, what else are you good for?" Devon asked.   
  


Ryan guffawed, not surprised anymore that his reputation preceded him. Rumours travelled fast in Orange County especially at the Harbor School. Ryan stepped forward, crowding the taller boy, until Devon was forced to back up. "I hate everything about you rich kids," he said, his voice grave. "Don't think I won't hit you. This school means nothing to me and I won't mind getting suspended just to kick your pathetic ass," Ryan threatened, his voice low, his eyes menacing. "Can you say the same?" Ryan pushed past them, Seth hot on his heels.  
  


"Dude, don't risk getting suspended for me," Seth said, once they were a reasonable distance away.  
  


"Shut up, Seth," Ryan said, not harshly.  
  


"I'm serious."  
  


"We're brother's right?" Ryan asked, his solemn tone surprising.  
  


"Yeah, of course, but what does that-"  
  


"No matter how much Trey and I fought, he always stuck up for me. Always. It's what brother's do," he finished, with a rare smile. "Now stop being such a girl and say thank you."   
  


Seth grinned a little lopsided. "Thanks, Ryan."

Ryan clapped him on the back, sending him forward a little. "No problem."  
  


"Ow," Seth complained, reaching his long arm around to touch the tender spot.   
  


Ryan lifted an eyebrow and smirked.   
  


Coach Rams, oblivious to the tension, dropped a bunch of bouncy balls onto the gym floor. "I thought we'd play a few games of dodgeball. We need captains," he said, looking around the room at his pupils. "How 'bout you, Anderson?"  
  


Ryan and Devon glared at each other from across the room. Devon grunted a noncommital answer.   
  


"Atwood?" Coach prompted.  
  


"Yeah, sure," Ryan accepted.  
  


"Atwood, Anderson, pick your teams," Coach Rams said, turning his back and handing out the red balls.   
  


Ryan and Devon picked their teams--Seth happy to be picked first for once in his life--and took formation on opposite ends of the gym.  
  


Coach blew the whistle and each side aimed for moving, human targets. Catching a stray ball, Devon grinned and without further thought, lobbed the ball straight at Seth.   
  


One minute Seth was trying to move out of the way and the next he was on the floor, his eye stinging as he blinked rapidly trying to get everything back into focus. He shook his head to get the ringing in his ears to stop. A cloud of voices surrounded him.  
  


"You did that on purpose, you asshole!" Ryan accused, his nostrils flaring.  
  


"It's not my fault Cohen's such a spaz," Devon defended, amused.  
  


"Yeah, relax Atwood, it's not Anderson's fault Cohen has no coordination," Braiden said, chuckling.  
  


"He aimed right for his face."  
  


"It's just a game. Accident's happen," Jack commented.  
  


"It wasn't an accident!"  
  


"All right, back up, give him some room," Couch Rams commanded, moving between the crowd of boys that included Ryan, Devon, Jack Turner, Braiden Kennedy and Mark Stevens, who remained silent. Mark and Seth were pretty good friends and he'd seen what opposition to the popular crew got a person, while Seth never seemed to mind sticking up for himself, even though it usually ended up getting him in more trouble, Mark had always just taken their abuse. Seth, though, probably wouldn't be able to control his sarcastic remarks no matter what. 

"Hey, Seth, man, you okay?"  
  


Seth made out Ryan's concerned gaze from his place sprawled on the ground. He managed to nod and take the hand Ryan offered him. Ryan easily helped get Seth back on his feet and steady him.  
  


"Good man, Cohen," Couch said, slapping him on the back. Seth winced. "All right, walk it off. Atwood, take him down to the nurse, make sure he's all right," Couch instructed, grabbing the abandoned ball from the gymnasium floor and blowing the whistle around his neck. "Game on!" he said, throwing the ball into the centre of the rest of the class who were already going about their own business, except for Devon who sneered at Ryan and Seth as they walked past him.  
  


Ryan and Seth trudged to the Nurse's office in silence. Seth was incredibly embarrassed and didn't feel like talking. "It think I can take it form here," Seth piped up, opening the door.  
  


"You sure?"  
  


"Yeah, I'll be all right."  
  


"Okay, man," Ryan said, turning to leave. Seth reached out and grabbed his arm.   
  


"Hey, Ryan, uh," he stalled, looking down at his shoes. "Thanks, dude." Seth flushed, keeping his eyes to the floor.   
  


"I told you, it's what brother's do," Ryan admonished, tapping him on the shoulder. "See ya later."  
  


Seth nodded and stepped inside the room, plopping himself down on one of the inviting cots in the small room and pulled the separation curtain around the frame of the bed.  
  


Seth had been waiting half-an-hour when a woman, who had the qualities of a super-model stamped across her chest, pulled the curtain on him and smiled warmly. "Mr. Cohen, I was wondering when we were going to have the pleasure of meeting."  
  


"Huh?" Seth asked, clearly confused. "Where's Nurse Irma?" He sat up.  
  


"Oh, I'm sorry she's moved on."  
  


"She died!?" Seth gasped. Nurse Irma had the bedside manor of a truck-driver, but she was always sympathetic to Seth's injuries and they'd had some good times together when Seth had found his way on the wrong side of a fist one too many times or sprained something--as he often did--in gym.   
  


The woman in white giggle softly. "Oh, no, sorry. I didn't mean moved on as in to a better place," she corrected. "She got transferred to Duke Medical, but she warned me about you," she explained, that wonderfully light smile returning to her deceptively young-looking face. "She said you were a charmer."   
  


Seth felt his cheeks burn. "Well, you can't believe everything you hear."  
  


"True. I'm Cindy, the new nurse."  
  


"Nice to meet you," Seth said sheepishly.  
  


"So, I see you've got a nasty bruise starting there. Mind if I take a look?"  
  


Seth shook his head and scooted forward on the cot. Cindy pulled out a pen light and shone it into his eye. Seth tried very hard to not notice the way the buttons of her uniform pulled tight across her chest. He didn't mind the bruise that was forming under his eye so much, in fact, he forgot all about it. That is, until, Nurse Cindy touched it. "Ow!"  
  


"Sorry," she said, touching his cheek a little more gently. She stepped back and grabbed Seth's file from a table, jotting down a little note. "It's probably going to swell up some more and hurt for a while, but there was no damage done to your eye. You'll be fine in a few days. Sit tight and I'll get you an ice pack."  
  


Seth nodded and layed down on the cot and closed his eyes. Nurse Cindy returned five minutes later. He felt the cool pressure of ice against his eye and a smooth hand on his leg, making him realize he was still wearing his geeky gym shorts. "Why don't you just rest here for the rest of the day? I'll let your teachers know."   
  


"T-thanks," Seth stuttered, sitting up, inadvertently letting the ice pack drop to his lap. "Do you think you could do something about getting me my clothes? It's a little drafty in here," he said, smiling as he retrieved the ice, having finally noticed it's absence.  
  


"I'll see what I can do," Cindy assured him, pinching his cheek.  
  


Seth shook his head. Why was it that hot older women threw themselves at Ryan in the pool house and hot older women treated him like he was still five years old? It had to be the shorts.

____________ 

To be continued....


	10. 10

Thanks for the reviews. Y'all are great. Please keep it up! :)

  
  


_____________________

Ryan brought Seth his clothes, checked to make sure he was okay and then went off to soccer practice. Thankful for something to wear that didn't remind him of the 1970's, Seth changed and spared a glance at his eye in the small mirror beside the cot where he'd laid, embarrassed, the whole afternoon. It looked as bad as it felt. He tried making a mean face in the mirror to make himself look tough, but that only stretched his all ready tender skin and caused him to wince. Shaking his head, he gathered his stuff and tried to salvage his dignity. 

  
  


Seth walked into the auditorium, hindered slightly by the bag of ice he was holding against his eye; it made him misjudge his steps, so he pulled it away, noticing Devon watching him right away. He ignored him as he made his way onto the stage. There was no way he was going to give him the satisfaction of quitting, he was only more determined to perform in the play. 

  
  


Summer was laying on the couch, her arm spread over her eyes dramatically. "You're late, Cohen," she said without moving. 

  
  


"How'd you know it was me?" he asked, instantly forgetting the awkwardness the last time they'd spoken and how they had left things. Summer had a tendency to do that to him. To make him forget how much she confused him and that no matter what he did, she just wouldn't open up to him. She wouldn't let him know her. 

  
  


Pulling her arm from her face, she sat up. "You make a lot of noise when you wa- Oh, my God! Your eye!"

  
  


"Yes, I have two of them."

  
  


She scowled at him, but her eyes instantly softened. He didn't miss the way her eyes flickered over to where Devon sat snickering. "Cohen, what happened?" 

  
  


"Dodgeball."

  
  


"Dodgeball?" she asked, incredulously 

  
  


Seth gave a weak attempt at a laugh. Humour was always his best line of defence. "See, the thing about dodgeball is that if you don't dodge, things like this happen."

  
  


She stood on her tip-toes, her hand edging toward the ice pack. "Let me see." 

  
  


"I'm fine," he snapped. He did not need Summer, of all people, to feel sorry for him.

  
  


"And like you said to me before, you're not fine. Let me take a look."

  
  


Reluctantly, he moved the ice off of his eye and Summer cringed. A deep purple-black bruise was already forming and his eye was bloodshot and puffy. Summer clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Was this Devon's doing?" she asked, point-blank.

  
  


"Devon? I told you, we were playing dodgeball in gym and you and I both know, I wasn't made for organized sports."

  
  


"It looks bad. Does it hurt?" Seth opened his mouth to speak, to make some sarcastic remark, but Summer cut him off before he had the chance. "Forget that, of course it hurts."

  
  


"It's not a big deal," he said, deflecting attention away from himself. "How about you? Are you okay?"

  
  


"I'm fine," she replied automatically. And he was back at square one.

  
  


Mr. Birdman came stumbling in through the auditorium doors, looking like he'd been put through the ringer. His dress shirt was untucked and his thinning hair was standing up, his glasses slightly askew. "People, gather round," he called once he'd mounted the stage. "We've had a huge set-back. The artist that was painting the set fell off a ladder yesterday and won't be able to complete the job, which means it's up to us." 

  
  


The assembled cast and crew groaned. They'd all been working so hard and the news wasn't impressing anyone. Seth spared a glance at Summer, who was, to his surprise, the only person in the room smiling. Correction, maybe not everyone was dreading painting the set. He felt his own smile forming and when it reached his cheek, he hissed from pain. Summer looked at him curiously, but he just brushed it off.

  
  


"In addition to rehearsal tomorrow, we'll also have to work on the lighting as well as the sets and my word, we still haven't had the fittings for costumes yet... Perhaps tomorrow we could work on the sets, but that would cut into rehearsal time... there's always the morning, but that may be asking too much," he recited more to himself than to the group of kids waiting for instructions. Mr. Birdman's face reddened and he wheezed a little. The guy looked about ready to collapse. Clapping his hands together, Mr. Birdman, took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. "Let's get to work, there's still lots to rehearse and opening night is fast approaching."

  
  


Everyone scattered and Seth and Summer took their places on stage. 

_______________

Seth woke up early that morning, figuring he could get to school early and fulfil his promise to help paint the sets. He dragged himself out of bed, showered and dressed, downing three cups of coffee just so he could function.

  
  


The school was still in darkness when he got there and he had to get the janitor to let him in. It was weird being in the school when no one was there. It was eerily quite and lifeless. At the entrance to the auditorium, he noticed light coming from under the door. Someone had made it to school even earlier than him? That was dedication! He crept in quietly, surprised by the lone figure sitting on the stage.

  
  


Seth leaned his tall frame against one of the wooden posts still not painted. To say that he was surprised to find Summer all ready hard at work at such an early hour was an understatement. It looked like she'd been making great strides. She'd already completed an entire backdrop herself and was just settling into the next one when he'd walked in. 

  
  


Summer leaned over various paint canisters, trapping the wooden end of her brush in her mouth as she attempted to tie back loose strands of hair, that had fallen out of her high ponytail. She slipped her silky strands easily back into place only for them to fall gently against her cheek two seconds later, but she didn't seem to notice or if she did, she didn't mind. Grabbing a nearby rag, she pressed it against the wooden board she'd just painted to add texture to the background. 

Pulling the brush from her mouth, she dipped it in black paint and resumed her efforts. 

  
  


"You just going to stand there?" she paused. 

  
  


Seth's mouth dropped, he thought he had gone undetected.

  
  


"Aren't you going to help?" she asked, without looking at him.

  
  


Righting himself, he crossed over to her, bending his knees and checking her work. "Nope. I'm fine watching you."

  
  


She looked up then, a smile covering her tan skin along with a streak of green paint, gone unnoticed from her earlier work on the grassy exterior on the backdrop. "Get a brush, smart-ass." She smacked a brush into his open palm, giving him a light shove he wasn't expecting and sent him crashing onto the floor, paint spattering his jeans and sneakers. 

  
  


Seth picked himself up and rubbed his knee. "You're so sweet. No one gives a bruise quite like you, Summer."

  
  


Summer was too far gone, laughing at him, to hear one word he said. "I-I'm..s-so-oory," she panted, holding her stomach.

  
  


"Glad you find it so funny. How long have you been here, I think the paint fumes have gone to your head."

  
  


Summer rolled her eyes and switched to a smaller brush to add detail. "Not that long. Besides," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "it's relaxing."

  
  


It was then that he did noticed just how at ease she seemed to be. There was no projected front she was hiding behind and not an ounce of contempt in her efforts. This was the Summer not everyone got to see. The one that was fine wearing old clothes and paint smeared along her cheek. The one that didn't bark commands or take herself too seriously. This was the Summer he couldn't take his eyes off of.

  
  


Fumbling with a can of paint, he nearly dropped it. 

  
  


Summer turned and gave him a quizzical look. "I slipped. Someone got paint on my shoes," he said, narrowing his eyes at her and then breaking into a smile.

  
  


"There should be some rags with turpentine or soap somewhere around here."

  
  


Seth looked around, spotting a pile of rags and a squeeze bottle containing liquid soap. Kneeling down, he wiped off his shoe as best he could, deciding he'd leave his pants for Rosa to deal with. Snatching another rag, he lathered it with soap and inched over to Summer. 

  
  


She looked up at him expectantly, biting her lip. "What?" 

  
  


Seth pressed his thumb against her chin and she released her lip with a surprised 'oh'. 

"You have some... a little paint right..." Touching the soft side of the rag against her cheek and he was surprised how low and quiet his voice sounded. "There."

  
  


Summer's hand instinctively covered his. "I can... You don't have t-" her sentence died on her lips. She was looking at him so intensely, he wasn't sure what was happening. Her hand went to his own cheek, gently brushing her fingers against the tender spots around his eye. "Does it still hurt?"

  
  


He swallowed audibly. "It's not... too bad," he strangled out, overwhelmed by the need to kiss her. He was going to do just that. Leaning in, he let the rag fall to the floor, so his skin was touching the smoothness of her cheek. He watched her breath hitch. Watched her chest rise and fall heavily. Her breasts swell. Watched as her eyes began to close. And then everything went to hell.

  
  


"Seth! Summer! My stars, you're here early!" Mr. Birdman's voice bounced around the auditorium, booming into their eardrums. Seth pulled away, looking at Summer guiltily. She offered him a small smile and turned her attention back to painting. Seth overwhelming relief that Summer wasn't pissed took precedence over his desire to kill Mr. Birdman for interrupting their moment. "This is great! Excellent work! You don't know how relieved I am, I didn't know what we were going to do."

  
  


Summer looked over her shoulder and smiled pleasantly at the bubbling teacher as he praised them. 

  
  


"Actually, I just got here, Summer did all of this," Seth piped up, grabbing the dropped rag.

  
  


"By yourself?" Mr. Birdman questioned. "You must have been here half the night."

  
  


Summer shrugged, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. Seth considered that. He looked around and noticed all the work she had done and realized, that, yes, she probably was there all night, which was odd. Did her father just let her go gallivanting around at all hours of the night? And then he chastised himself for using the word gallivanting in his thoughts. 

  
  


Mr. Birdman came closer to examine the backdrops and set props. "This is excellent work, Summer. You have real talent as an artist."

  
  


Summer's cheeks got redder and she barely spared a glance up. "It's nothing, really."

  
  


"I've never seen you in Ms. Fiore's art class."

  
  


"My schedule was too full," Summer justified, but the glint in her eye told Seth she was lying. 

  
  


"Oh, that's too bad, I'm sure she'll want to see this later. Oh, I talked to the seamstress and she can only fit you two in during school hours, she's very busy with the Newpsie Annual Ball next week, so I'm going to get you a pass and you'll have to miss the afternoon to get fitted."

  
  


"Awesome!" Seth exclaimed.

  
  


"If you two will excuse me, I still have to make some phone calls and figure out the wiring for the lighting, there's a short somewhere." Mr. Birdman walked away without awaiting a response. Sometimes Seth wondered if the man was insane. It was true that drama teachers were always a little eccentric, but Mr. Birdman brought that stereotype to a whole new level.

  
  


"So we get out of class, that's a good deal, huh? I bet you're not regretting this whole play thing now."

  
  


"It's cool," Summer said, her concentration remaining on her art.

  
  


"So... Just how long have you been here?"

  
  


"I told you, not that long."

  
  


Seth came and sat beside her, crossing his legs and watching her carefully paint. "Summer."

  
  


She looked at him from the corner of her eye and huffed. "Okay, I snuck in through the girls' bathroom window in the middle of the night."

  
  


"Are you nuts? What about your folks? What if your dad finds out you're missing?"

  
  


Summer laughed, but there was no humour behind it, it was hollow and chilly. "He won't care. I've been sneaking out of that house since I was thirteen. Dianne's too doped up to notice and Daddy only pays attention when he feels like it, which is never." Seth edged closer so his knee was pressed against hers, his hand went to her shoulder. She dropped her hand from the backdrop and leaned into his touch. "I'm sorry I freaked out the other day."

  
  


"Don't worry about it. We all wig out once in a while." He let his hand slowly drop to her back where his fingers worked little circles against it. "I'm here if you want to talk. Or if you don't. Just...I'm here. You know that, right?"

  
  


Summer looked at him then. Her eyes were dark and unreadable. "Why do I believe you when you say that?"

  
  


"Because it's true," he said, pulling her closer to she rested against his chest. 

  
  


"Cohen?"

  
  


"Hmm?"

  
  


"I don't want to fall for you, but I don't think I can help it," she said, so very quietly. 

  
  


Seth took a deep breath, absorbing it all internally. "Maybe you shouldn't fight it anymore. I mean, I've given up fighting it." 

  
  


Summer nestled in closer, taking a deep breath. "It's scary, I don't want to give up control. Can you understand that?"

  
  


Seth nodded, lowering his head, so his chin rested against her soft hair. "We'll take it slow if you want."

  
  


"I think I do." 

  
  


"I'm cool with that. Besides, many a'women have tried to resist my charms, but I'm just irresistible." 

  
  


"In your dreams, Cohen."

  
  


"You could try to be nice to me now that were sorta like, you know, together."

  
  


Summer yawned. "Together? Ew!"

  
  


Seth looked down at her and she smiled. Apparently she'd been through the Ryan Atwood School of Dry Humour. 

  
  


"You're never going to be nice to me are you?"

  
  


"What would the fun in that be?"

  
  


"Right. My bad," he said, laughing and giving her a light squeeze. Without the witty banter, what fun would it be?


	11. 11

  
  


Notes: Since this is rated PG-13, I've decided to keep it as 'wholesome' as that rating allows, but for younger readers, I will warn you that there are acts of sexuality in this chapter.

Thanks for the reviews! I hope you'll continue to share your opinions with me. :)

____________  
  


Seth looked down at the skilful hands from his place on a well-worn stool while a measuring tape wrapped itself along his leg. The woman working on taking his measurements was a little overzealous. "Hey lady, watch the hands."  
  


Summer snorted. She re-crossed her legs and set her chin on her knuckles. "She has to get your in-seam, you dork."  
  


Seth raised his eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Does she have to touch my, well you know, my private parts, too?"  
  


"You're gross," she replied, trying to sound disgusted, though she couldn't help smiling.  
  


Another woman walked into the back of the small seamstress shop and handed Summer a hanger covered in a white plastic bag.   
  


"Thanks," Summer said, taking her costume into the dressing room to change.  
  


"I'm just saying, someone's getting a little frisky with the measuring tape, if you know what I mean." Seth said to the curtain Summer was behind.  
  


"Cohen, that's so rude."  
  


The woman wrote something down on a piece of paper and scurried away to the front of the shop. Seth looked into the mirror across from himself and frowned. If he knew getting the afternoon off meant standing in some hot shop while people touched and poked at him, he might not have been so enthused earlier that morning. "It's not like she knows what I'm saying. She doesn't even speak English. Mr. Birdman's got his own labour camp going on here. We should call immigration, or like, the labour board or something, it's our civic duty."  
  


Summer stuck her head out of the dressing room and glared at him, not needing words to instill fear in Seth.  
  


Seth put his hands up in front of him and stepped off the stool, plopping down on the chair Summer had recently vacated. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I was only joking. So, how's things going in there? Need an extra set of hands? I'm great at doing up zippers and stuff. Yeah, buttons and all kinds of things, too."  
  


Seth heard Summer laugh behind the curtain and smiled to himself. "No thanks," she said, "I'm doing just fine on my own."  
  


"All right, but if you change your mind, I'm right here." Looking around, he spotted a magazine and picked it up. He shifted through the pages, bored.   
  


Hearing the swish of fabric on the other side of the curtain, he sucked in a breath. There was a good chance Summer was naked or almost naked and that was just too much information for his virgin heart to take.   
  


"So, I signed up for that art show thing," Summer said quietly, still hidden behind the curtain.   
  


"Hmm? You did?" Seth asked, flustered.  
  


"Yeah, and I was thinking, since you're the one that encouraged me, maybe you might want to be my escort."  
  


Seth sat up straight, watched the curtain sway. "Are you asking me out?"  
  


"Cohen."  
  


"No, wait, I think I have to sit down for this one...oh, wait, I am sitting."  
  


"Cohen, don't be such a dork," she said, pulling the curtain and stepping out of the dressing room in a long, southern-style, cream-coloured dress.  
  


Seth stood up, went to put his hands in his pockets, but realized he didn't have any and sat back down again. "No, you look...it's... Wow!"

"Thanks." Summer looked at him through her eyelashes, her dark eyes glinting like onyx. "So, will you go with me?"  
  


Seth blinked, cleared his throat. "Yes. Definitely, yes."

_________

Seth placed the last frame in its designated space while Summer snapped a picture behind him. 

"Cohen, it's upside down," she said, lowering the camera.  
  


Seth took a step back and tilted his head to the side. "Right," he agreed, giving her a wink. "Yeah, no, I knew that. I was just testing you." He stepped up and switched the canvas around.   
  


Summer rolled her eyes but she had a smile on her face. "Sure." Taking a step back, she surveyed her display. There were a lot of paintings that she had done over the years. They were like a patchwork quilt of her life. The good times and the not so good times all laid out for anyone to see. A chill ran up the length of her spine.   
  


"What're you thinking?" Seth asked, surprising her by wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his head on her shoulder.   
  


She was still getting used to this. Used to Seth and his constant reassurance and affectionate nature. She didn't even mind so much the stares they got in the hall when she took his hand or the snub from Holly's party she wasn't invited to, because for once in her life she felt truly accepted and wanted; like no matter what she did, Seth wouldn't turn his back on her like so many other people had. Ryan and Marissa didn't even make her lose her lunch anymore - though their PDA's still weren't considered cute in her book, they needed to save the groping for the privacy of Ryan's pool house. The point was, she'd never known someone as open and honest as Seth was. He always seemed to know what she needed and she liked the person she was growing into.  
  


"I'm just nervous, I guess," she said, turning in his arms and resting her head just below his shoulder.   
  


"Don't be, you'll do great. Last rehearsal tomorrow, you ready?"  
  


Summer nodded against his chest, too comfortable to move or speak. Between the rehearsals for the play and getting ready for the art show, not to mention her new relationship with Seth, Summer hadn't had much time to herself and though she liked it, she also didn't mind admitting that she missed her father, even if they only 'talked' when he was reprimanding her. She hadn't done anything lately to command his attention, she was even getting along with Diane for the first time in her life, mostly because Seth had warmed up to her and won her over with his charm. And Seth had sat with Summer and held her hand the first time the three of them met - of course, her father couldn't make it. Seth had this way about him and even Diane, in her drug-induced haze, could see that he only wanted the best for Summer. And Dee-Dee wasn't so bad. Not really. Not once both her and Summer dropped the attitudes and fawned over Seth. Fawned really wasn't the right word... Humoured, maybe. Summer accepted that some people needed help and she promised Seth she would be there if Dee-Dee ever lowered herself to ask for it.  
  


"You're going to be great," Seth said, his grip tightening and straying to her backside.  
  


"Hands!" Summer chastised and Seth moved them back up.   
  


"Sorry," he said, sheepishly, though he didn't look very sorry when she looked at him. "Now, tell me the truth, there really wasn't a bet, was there?"  
  


Summer held in her laugh. "Oh, there was a bet all right. You're just lucky I'm a terrible shot, otherwise you'd have to kiss Luke three times a night for a week."  
  


Seth grabbed his stomach, pretending he was going to be sick. "Thank God, I did not need to get herpes or something equally disgusting. Oh, and you know, the whole kissing a guy thing. 'Cause, ew!"  
  


"Cohen!" She squealed, pushing him away.  
  


"What?" Seth asked, reaching for her hand.  
  


"Actually, you're probably right - about the herpes thing," she agreed and pressed herself up against him again.  
  


"See," Seth moved his hand to cradle Summer's neck, his fingers twisting gently in her hair. "So... since we're talking about Luke, that makes me think about Holly... I mean, not about Holly, because I so would never be thinking about Holly when I have you-"  
  


"Cohen."  
  


"Right. Uh, I have to ask you something."  
  


"Go ahead," she said.  
  


"Uh, you're, like, okay with us, aren't you? I mean, we always skipped the kisses in rehearsal, but we're going to have to actually do it on stage..."  
  


"Yeah? And?"   
  


"And nothing. I mean, you're going to have to kiss me in front of the whole school. That doesn't bother you?"  
  


"Why should it?"  
  


"Hmm? Maybe because three months ago you looked at me like I had leprosy."  
  


Summer shrugged. "Things are different now."

Seth blinked rapidly and Summer smiled. She liked the new care-free attitude she had adopted since she started dating Seth, and plus, she liked to keep him on his toes.  
  


_____________.

Summer slept in, knowing she had an extra half hour, since she was skipping first period to go to the dentist's. Having maxed out her credit card, Summer would have to pay for her visit with a cheque, unfortunately she'd have to ask her father for the money. There was a small part of her that was looking forward to bugging him for it since it had been so long since they'd spoken.  
  


After she'd showered and changed, she called through the house looking for Diane or her father. Neither appeared to be home. Sometimes her father liked to listen to opera music in his study and couldn't always hear and the intercom was broken, so she decided to climb the stairs and go see for herself if he was home. When she got to the door, it was open, but her father was not around. His desk was a mess; papers were strewn about everywhere and the filing cabinet was ajar. Summer stepped behind the desk and opened the top drawer, spotted the cheque book and grabbed it. Her eyes flickered over the papers, something caught her eye. Picking up the slightly crumpled letter, she felt tears prick her eyes.

__________

It was the last day of practice and like the true eccentric Mr. Birdman was, he decided to cancel practice to make the play fresh on opening night. Unfortunately for Summer, she'd had a dentist appointment that afternoon and would be coming from home so she didn't get the news. Seth tried her cell phone repeatedly but kept getting the voice mail, so he decided to wait for her in the auditorium to tell her when she arrived.  
  


Seth heard the click-click of Summer's heels as she stormed through the auditorium doors and straight up the aisle leading to the stage. He rose from his place on the couch and met her halfway. "Hey! Practice was cancelled."  
  


Summer's eyes were black and angry when she looked at him. Her skin was sallow. The contrast was devastatingly sexy and any other time, Seth would be glad for the anger; the anger that he loved, but this wasn't just simple spite or playful banter, this was something deeper, something more tragic. "Don't 'hey' me. Did you know about this?"  
  


Seth scratched behind his ear. "Huh? Know about what?"  
  


"This!" she said, crushing the paper to his chest.  
  


Seth pried the letter from her shaking hands and began to read, only for Summer to grab it from him and tear it up, spreading the shreds all over the stage.  
  


She was visibly shaking now. "He just got back and now he's going to be gone all the time again. And it's your fault!"  
  


Seth straightened his spine and crossed his arms over his chest. "How's it my fault?"   
  


Summer's eyes widened, her stance not faltering. "Your father is suing my father! That makes it your fault. How could you keep this from me? I thought... I guess I don't know what I thought."   
  


Seth uncrossed his arms and held his hands up in front of him. "Look, that's his business not mine. Just calm down. Okay? Come on, let's go sit down and talk this out," Seth said, taking her elbow and leading her back to the couch.   
  


Summer sat down next to him, her hand on his thigh, her breathing coming out strangled and strained. "Dammit, Cohen, he's never home and your dad's little crusade is going to keep him at the office all the time! I can't take it. I hate being alone."  
  


Seth rubbed her back and swallowed hard. "You're not alone, Summer."  
  


Summer turned to him, her eyes swimming with uncertainty and unshed tears. She always seemed to fall apart in his arms. "Why can't anyone love me? Am I really that unlovable?"   
  


Seth understood then. It was just a flicker in her midnight eyes but he read it clear. Because dammit she had fallen in love with him and now she was terrified he was going to disappear like everyone else always did. He wasn't going to let her believe that.  
  


"Of course not. I... Summer, come on. That's not it at all, your dad is just a jackass."  
  


"Seth," she cried, burying her face into his novelty shirt.  
  


"Shh, I'm here and I'm not going to go anywhere. I promise, Summer."  
  


Seth held Summer in his arms for a timeless minute. When her shoulders stopped shaking and her breathing began to even out, Seth looked down and was surprised to find her staring at him.  
  


"I'm sorry," she said, quietly, her throat seizing and her eyes tearing again.  
  


"Don't be," he assured her and kissed her forehead.   
  


Summer pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him until his body began to yield to hers. He let Summer lower him onto the plush sofa. She really seemed to have a thing for couches...and controlling him.   
  


She kissed his neck, speared out her tongue and traced the shell of his ear. To say he was confused was an understatement. He was freaking discombobulated. Summer's actions were seemingly desultory.  
  


One leg went between each of his so she was straddling his thigh. "What-" he ventured to speak but she cut him off, silencing him with a finger to his lips and the slight move of her knee against his groin. Seth inhaled sharply. The moth ball smell of the couch contrasted with the bleach smell of the room and the soft lavender permeating from Summer's tan skin.   
  


"Shh."  
  


Seth hesitated, not because he didn't want to have Summer straddling him, but because they hadn't been very physical. Not yet. Not that he was opposed to being physical, just that Summer was vulnerable and he'd feel like a complete tool if she regretted anything they did together. Let the babbling commence. "You know I don't have a lot of self-control when it comes to you, so you're just going to have to stop." He tried to push away, but relented when her warm hands touched his forearms.   
  


Summer looked him in the eye, moved her hand to cup his cheek and smiled, shaking her head. "I don't want to stop." Her hair fell forward, framing her face like a curtain. His hand reached out on its own accord and moved the strands behind her ear, touching soft skin in its wake.   
  


"This isn't-"  
  


"Shut up and kiss me."  
  


Sometimes Seth really did talk too much. He obliged. Kissing Summer was so much better than he ever fantasied. Summer's lips were smooth and shimmered with pink stuff that tasted a little bit like grape fruit, which was strange because he'd always hated grape fruit, but tasting it on Summer's lips was a whole new experience. His fingers fumbled to get under her shirt and touch the soft expanse of her back and when he finally did, she groaned and kneed him just a bit too hard.  
  


"Sorry," she said, pulling away just long enough to say that and then resumed kissing him. Harder. The skin on her cheeks heated and flashed red. The heat spread from there down her neck and to the tops of her breasts, all a lovely vibrant pink.  
  


He didn't mind so much the pain because it took his mind off of the extreme pleasure of having a girl like Summer practically daring him to do something he'd never done before in the middle of the stage at their school. So maybe it was a good thing that his groin was throbbing for a different reason after that and his legs were going numb because his brain was already there and he sure as hell wasn't putting a stop to whatever was happening now.   
  


He concentrated on Summer. On the lines of her shoulder, which he swathed with his tongue. The hollow of her neck he kissed with tenderness. The valley where her tank top ended and her breasts began heaved and wielded to his touch. All the while Summer kept a steady rhythm on his thigh, gyrating and grinding, desperately trying to rock against his groin. Her fingers twisted in his hair. Her lips fixed against his throat.  
  


He had the impression somewhere she had lost control and it was up to him to grope for it, but he couldn't seem to grasp it; couldn't seem to make himself stop. And he tried to make it sink into his brain and make the words come out of his mouth. "Summer? Summer...we have to...oh, God...we have to stop."  
  


He felt her shake her head against him, giving her disapproval. She was so close he could feel her heart pounding against his skin. And that just weakened his resolve even more. "W-we can't...just...one...minute... "  
  


He closed his eyes, bit the inside of his cheek. "Summer."  
  


Summer arched up, clenched her teeth together and fell against his shoulder, her breath fanning against his neck like a hot air balloon.   
  


Her body was boneless. Limp. He watched in fascination as the colour returned to her face. Her rose-coloured cheeks still glowed with something like arousal and post-coital mourning, but the redness of her neck and ears drained away and left her tawny skin looking beautifully ravished.  
  


She shivered in his arms - a combinations of aftershocks and tears and something deeper than what was on the surface.   
  


"That was..."  
  


"Yeah. Are you- you're okay? Feel better now?" Seth asked lamely. He smoothed his palms over her shoulder blades, cradling her against him a minute to absorb her trembles.   
  


Summer couldn't help it, she took one look at his crumpled shirt and bed-head hair that looked messy even for Seth and laughed. "I'm sorry," she said between gasps.  
  


"For what?" he asked, truly perplexed.  
  


That pretty pink tint coated Summer's cheeks again. She cleared her throat and Seth wasn't delusional if he thought Summer looked embarrassed. "Well, you know...um...you didn't get to...well, you know."  
  


Seth looked down and then he felt his own face heat up. "Uh, yeah, no, that's okay. Really."  
  


Untangling herself from his arms, Summer stood on shaky legs and grabbed her backpack. "Next time," she said and it sounded like a promise. 

Seth sat there completely lost. He let out a string of curses that were complete balderdash. What the hell had just happened?

________

To be continued...


	12. 12

Thanks for the replies. Zoe, thank you so much for your kind words. I wish everyone was that accepting and open-minded.

_________________  
  
Summer knocked on Marissa's door, her knees knocking together like a pair of maracas. She was about to pound harder when the door flew open and Marissa appeared, staring at her oddly. "Can I come in?"  
  


"Of course," Marissa said, ushering her inside.   
  


It didn't take much prompting for Summer to spill her guts and half an hour later, she'd blabbed almost all there was to tell.   
  


"I... he...we..." Summer proceeded to explain to Marissa the edited version of mortal sin she'd committed with Seth Cohen or at she attempted to at least make sense of it.   
  


"Well," Marissa began, eyeing Summer carefully. "You liked it, right?"  
  


Summer felt her cheeks heat, which was strange considering it took a lot to get her embarrassed and she'd surely razed Marissa about things far worse; but they weren't talking about some random hook-up, some guy she'd met at the beach or stumbled into at a wild party, they were talking about Seth Cohen and she'd never had these type of feelings before. "Duh. That's just a stupid question, Coop."  
  


Marissa continued as if Summer hadn't spoken. "And Seth didn't seem to mind...doing _that_."  
  


"Coop, if you have a point, get to it, please," Summer said strained, her face going three shades darker red.  
  


Marissa smiled. "I guess, I just don't see what the problem is."  
  


Summer's eyes widened, her jaw dropping. "I let Seth Cohen do _that_ to me on the freakin' stage at school, Coop! You don't see a problem with that?"  
  


"I kinda saw it as inevitable, maybe not the way it happened, but Ryan and I always figured you two would eventually hook-up."  
  


Summer pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands. "How come no one told me?"  
  


Marissa laughed, pulling Summer's hands from her face. "Sum, please, you can't say you didn't see this coming..." Summer's eyes narrowed, her lips thinning. Marissa caught on quickly and giggled. "Oh, no pun intended -- I don't know why you don't just let it happen."  
  


"I did let it happen," Summer said, letting her legs drop and crossing them on the couch, hugging her arms around herself. "I mean, we're, like, a couple." She bit her lip, took a quick look at Marissa. "Ew! I've never been in, like, a relationship before and I have to pick _Seth Cohen_ to fall in love with?"   
  


"Whoa," Marissa gasped. "In love? Those are two words I never expected coming from your mouth and especially not about Seth Cohen, but...well, I've never seen you this happy before. I mean, look at you, you're downright giddy," she said, poking Summer in the side.  
  


Summer smacked Marissa's hand away and tried to hide her smile. "Coop, stop! I am not."  
  


"Oh, I think you are."  
  


Summer shrugged. "Maybe I am. A little. It feels good though, like I can do anything. I mean, Seth, he's just so..._Seth_. He makes me believe in myself. I've never had that before. Is it like that with Ryan?"  
  


Marissa nodded. "Yeah. I can't believe you just left though."  
  


Summer closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the couch. "Uh, yeah. I kinda didn't know what to do."  
  


"Not leaving would have been a good start."  
  


"I know, but I was just... I dunno. Like, there he was and if I didn't get out of there... well, let's just say Cohen would have really good material to write to Penthouse about."  
  


"Sum!"  
  


Summer sighed, picking up her head and looking at Marissa. "Well, it's true. Besides, his father is still suing my father and I might have said some things that weren't too nice."  
  


"You were upset, I'm sure he gets that."  
  


"Still, I've never been one for conversation after... well, you know. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I don't even want to know what he's thinking. He's been nothing but supportive with me. Staying with me while my dad was away, taking care of me while I was drunk, making me breakfast-"   
  


"Wait, Seth 'cereal-is-my-life' Cohen, actually cooked?"  
  


Summer laughed wistfully. "Yeah, it was pretty good, too. See, that's the point, all these years, he's just been that guy I sometimes caught staring at me in the hall or the kid we sometimes made fun of, but now, he's, like, _Seth Cohen_, the guy I can't stop thinking about. It's weird. He even got me to enter an art show."  
  


"Really? You still do that? I thought you said you weren't really that serious about it."  
  


"I guess I lied," she said, avoiding Marissa's eyes. "I just didn't think you'd understand."  
  


"I haven't been much of a friend lately," Marissa said, her eyes on the carpet.  
  


Summer took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. "No, don't say that."  
  


"Why not, it's true." Marissa looked up, her eyes huge.  
  


"Remember the time I left you at the mall and you had to walk home in the pouring rain because I went off with Jimmy Parson's just because he was a senior and could drive?"  
  


Marissa shook her head, not making the connection. "That was years ago, Summer."  
  


Summer nodded. "Yeah, but my point is, I hurt you, but you eventually forgave me. It's the same thing. Okay?"  
  


Marissa seemed to think it over and after a minute of contemplation, she agreed. "Okay."  
  


"Look, Coop, it's been fun and all, but if I don't get my ass in gear I'm going to be late for this stupid play and I don't want Cohen to worry."  
  


Marissa grinned broadly.   
  


"Don't even say it," Summer warned, reaching for her bag on the table.   
  


"Say what?" Marissa asked innocently.  
  


"Whatever smart remark you were going to make." She picked the backpack up from the wrong end and sent the contents in all directions around the room. "Great. Just great."  
  


"Here, I'll help," Marissa offered.   
  


"Thanks." Summer bent down and started to put things back into her school bag, picking up a paper and giving it a quick scan. "Oh, God."  
  


"What?"   
  


Summer looked up, her face ashen. "The show. It's tonight."   
  


Marissa looked at her strangely. "Yeah, I know, you better hurry up or you'll be late, we've covered this."  
  


Summer hurriedly grabbed the things Marissa had picked up from the floor and stuck them in her bag, mumbling to herself. "No, this is not happening. It can't be tonight."  
  


"Sum? It's going to be fine. You know your lines and Seth will be there to help you if you get stuck, besides it's just a play." Marissa looked at her friend, concerned.  
  


Summer shook her head slowly. It suddenly felt too heavy and a wave of nausea went through her. "No, not the play. The art show. I must have gotten the dates mixed up. It's tonight and the play is tonight ...and oh, god, what am I going to tell Seth? Coop, what am I going to do?"  
  


"Hey girls," Jimmy said, carrying a plate of food in from the kitchen, oblivious to the crisis being played out on his living room floor. "Snacks?" he offered, setting them down on the table in front of Summer. He reached out and picked up Summer's open portfolio that had fallen from her backpack - she'd forgotten to take it out after Seth helped her set-up her art the other day. He flipped through the pages and whistled through his teeth. "These are great."  
  


"Thanks," Summer said absently, getting up from the floor.  
  


Jimmy pulled out a photo of a sunset and inspected it closer. "Do you mind if I show this to my boss? We're running this campaign for sunglasses and this picture would make an excellent background for our print ads." He handed her back the black leather binder that contained the rest of her pictures.   
  


"Sure, go ahead," Summer said, a little less enthusiastically than what was appropriate considering what he was asking, but she really wasn't thinking about herself, she was thinking about Seth and what she was going to do about the play and art show.   
  


Art was her real passion, but the play had been surprisingly fun and acting with Seth had its benefits, too, but how could she choose her passion if it meant letting Seth down? Summer had always been a selfish person, but that only came out of necessity; there was no one looking out for her, so she had to take for herself or get burned, there had never been any one there depending on her and for the first time in her life...there was. It was a lot to take in.   
  


Jimmy left the room, his eyes glued to the photograph. Marissa stood beside Summer and touched her shoulder. "You okay, Sum?"  
  


"I have to go find Seth," Seth said, throwing the folder into her backpack with the rest of her stuff.   
  


"Okay," Marissa said, unsure.  
  


"I... I don't know what to do," Summer said honestly as she made her way to the door, Marissa closely behind. "Seth's depending on me, but... I-I have to go," she said again and was out the door without a look back.

_______

While Summer had bolted out of the auditorium, Seth had been slower to leave, mostly because he didn't think walking around with an erection was a smart thing to do. So, once that was...resolved, Seth knew exactly where he had to go...and since Ryan was still at soccer practice, he went to the next reasonable source, but since his mother was in a meeting, he settled for his last option...  
  


He took the stairs to the office and bypassed his father's secretary, bursting into the room without knocking.  
  


Sandy looked up from his desk and smiled when he saw his son.   
  


Seth flattened his hands on his father's desk and sat on the edge of a chair. "Dad, I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be straight with me."  
  


Sandy settled back in his own chair and put his hands together under his chin. "Okay, go ahead, son."  
  


Seth took a deep breath and made sure to look his father in the eye. If there was one thing he shared with his father -besides his sense of humour, which he was reluctant to admit- it was definitely his inability to lie. Seth knew that when he lied he never looked a person in the eye, so if his father was lying that would be the dead give away. "Are you suing Summer's father?"  
  


Sandy looked at a spot behind Seth's head. Ha! Liar! "Seth, you know I can't disclose that kind of information."  
  


Seth rocked in his chair, his leg nervously bouncing up and down. "Dad, come on."  
  


"My firm has some interest in Mr. Roberts' business practices."  
  


"So, that's a yes."  
  


Sandy bobbed his head slowly. "Yes."  
  


Seth sat back fully on the chair and stretched out his legs in front of him. "Well, could you, like, maybe, not sue him?"  
  


Sandy's eyes narrowed, concerned creasing his forehead. "What's all this about?"  
  


Seth tried to articulate it into words, but his frustration won out and he threw his hands in the air before just going for the jugular. "It's just that Summer barely sees her Dad as it is and now with this new lawsuit, he's at the office all the time and Summer's alone... it's just... It's not right, Dad. People like that should not be parents," Seth said, becoming more animated by the second. "I mean, you're a busy guy, but you come home and go to Ryan's soccer games and are coming to see my play and you make time for mom. But Summer...she doesn't have anyone...well, she has me, but she didn't always and it's just not right. She's been through enough with her mom leaving... She can't even spend the night alone, I'm still not really sure why. I guess she gets freaked out... I mean, that time you and mom pulled a Home Alone on me for an hour when I was twelve really scarred me, so I can't imagine being left alone for a few days, see what I'm saying? Dad, if you knew her... How could anyone not want to be around her? She's like the sweetest, smartest, sexist girl I've ever met. Uh, ignore that last part. I got carried away."  
  


Sandy shook his head, used to his son's diatribes. He focussed on the most important points. "If Summer's being neglected, there are things we can do. I could give Janice Maloy a call at Child Ser-"  
  


"Dad, no!" Seth held his hands up, cutting off his father. "That's the last thing Summer needs and she'd hate me. Couldn't you, I dunno, talk to Mr. Roberts or something? She just needs...well, she needs a father and I don't think that's asking too much."  
  


Sandy's eyes connected with his son's. "No, that's not too much to ask. I'll give it a try, son."  
  


Seth stood, his smile luminous. "Thanks, pops." Sandy stood also, following his son to the door. Seth turned at the last second and gave him a hug. "Really, I mean it."  
  


Sandy squeezed his son, patted him on the back a few time and then pushed him away, mussing his hair. "All right, get out of here. Don't you have a play to act in?"  
  


Seth smiled again, his dimples showing. "Yeah, I better go. You'll be there, right?"  
  


Sandy nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."  
  


Taking a few steps, Seth stopped and turned. "Leave the video camera at home, though. Please?"  
  


"You'll be lucky if you get off that easy, your mother probably hired a whole crew to film the thing. Oh, which reminds me, I'm going to have to bring a box of Kleenex. You know how emotional your mother gets."  
  


Seth let out a loud snort of disbelief. "Right, Dad. Sure, blame mom. You're the one they had to tell to shut up at my guitar recital in the fifth grade."  
  


"You were so much better than that other kid, it was an injustice."  
  


Seth rolled his eyes. "Dad."  
  


"It was!" Sandy stated firmly.  
  


"And now you know why I quit guitar," Seth said, shaking his head and walking away.  
  


______

Summer didn't know if she had made the right decision or not, but there was no turning back. She waited patiently for Seth while her nerves began a jig in her stomach. It was bad enough that she'd just left him after he'd done...things to her on the stage while she had an emotional breakdown and blamed him for her father's absentee parenting skills, but now she was going to leave him on opening night so she could fulfill her own glory-seeking while he had to act with the totally inept thespian reject who probably still hadn't learned all her lines.  
  


Seth approached her. "Hey," he said, bending down and kissing her cheek softly.   
  


"Hey," she replied, the jig in her stomach turning into frigging The Lord of the Dance.

She felt herself melting and she'd never been the type of girl to describe herself as melting. Melting was for chocolate or ice cream and she clearly was not that sweet...well, she never used to be. At least not in front of anyone other than Marissa. Clearly, she couldn't do this when she had Michael Flatley in her stomach, especially not with Seth looking so puppy dog cute... And now she was even starting to think like him, in his adorable, muddled, weird-ass references kinda way. Her cheeks felt hot. Hell, her whole body felt hot as she looked Seth over and remembered exactly how he'd made her feel in the afternoon during her time of...need, and now she was just going to abandon him. Summer cleared her throat, avoiding his eyes...those damn beautiful brown eyes. "I'm sorry about this afternoon."  
  


Seth took her hand, smiled that soft smile with just a hint of dimples and an abundance of warmth. "Don't be. I'm not. And it's totally cool, I've got my dad working on the whole lawsuit thing, so don't even think about it, okay?" Seth stopped, his eyes clouding. "Or wait...do you mean you're sorry it happened...whatever did happen? You know, with the...you know."  
  


This time Summer looked at him when she spoke. "No, no. That's not it at all. Just... it's a little weird, isn't it? I mean, between us. 'Cause, I kinda just ran out on you. It was... yeah. But you're okay with everything?"  
  


Seth squeezed her hand and it was reassuring and damning all at the same time. If she'd ever agree to being called a bitch, now was the time. "Yeah. You?"  
  


"Like I said, I'm okay. I just feel a little silly for rushing out like that. But yeah, you're okay with everything then?" Summer asked, knowing she was being redundant, but the longer they danced around the events of the afternoon, the longer she could avoid telling him about the art show.  
  


Seth laughed, nodding. "I'm great. So great, in fact, that I got these for you," he said, producing a bouquet of flowers form behind his back. The situation was going from bad to worse. She just had to take a deep breath and tell him the truth and bare the consequences. He held up one hand to stop her from speaking. "I know, I know, I'm not supposed to give these to you until after we go on, but I think you deserve them now." Seth must have sensed her reluctance or discomfort because he just kept talking. "It's, like, a thing people do on opening night. It's, like, a tradition or something. Don't stomp on tradition, Summer. Here, just take them and pretend they're from some water polo guy." Seth handed her the flowers.   
  


"They're from you, that's a hundred times better than from some dumb jock." Summer smelled them and wanted to cry. She was not one to get sentimental, especially over flowers, but Seth had obviously put a lot of thought into it. He'd even gotten a few orchids in the bunch -her favourite- a whole bouquet would have been overpowering, but a few of the delicate beauties were just pretty enough to make her guilt triple.  
  


Summer could feel Seth's eyes on her, so she kept her own glued to the arrangement of flowers and the card with Seth's messy writing. The word love in slanted chicken-scratch above his name was not lost on her either. If that wasn't enough, his next words almost broke her.  
  


"I'm really proud of you."  
  


Her head snapped up and she narrowly missed hitting his chin. "You're proud of me?"  
  


Seth smiled sheepishly. "Well, yeah."  
  


Summer shook her head. "Sorry, I just don't think I've ever heard that before."  
  


Seth rubbed his thumb on the inside of her wrist making her aware that he was still holding her hand and that his touch was comforting when she shouldn't have let it be. "I don't know why, between this and your art, you have a lot to be proud of. And, of course, you're going out with me, so that right there makes you a winner in my book," he said, punctuating his words with a wink meant to be taken in jest.   
  


She was an awful, awful person. "Cohen."  
  


Seth bent down and enveloped Summer in a hug. "No, I meant it. When you started this play, I really didn't think you were going to stick with it, but you're really good. Seriously."  
  


She reluctantly, if not regrettably, pulled away first from the embrace. "Cohen, that's sorta what I wanted to talk to you about. See, the th-"  
  


The stage manager rushed past them, pointing to her watch. "Fifteen minutes, guys. Hurry up!"  
  


Seth looked Summer up and down. "You better get changed, I'll see you out there."  
  


When Seth attempted to head in the opposite direction, it was Summer's small hand on his forearm that stopped him, but it was her words that made him go stalk-still. "I'm not going out."  
  


Seth snorted. "What?"  
  


"I just told Tracy to get changed. The art show... it's tonight."  
  


Seth was quite for a full minute. Summer wondered if she'd ever had such an encounter with him before. She didn't get a chance to get accustomed to the silence, because Seth was making little incomprehensible noises before she had a chance to enjoy it, or at least let it sink in. "Ha, yeah, good one, you almost had me. You're _almost_ as funny as Ryan, but really, good joke."  
  


"It's not a joke. I wish it were, but the art show is tonight and I can't be in two places at once. I have to go, Cohen. It's what I've been working so hard all these years for."  
  


"Tonight? No."  
  


"Yeah."  
  


Seth shook his head vigorously. "That's just great, Summer. We worked so hard and now, what, you're just going to leave?" his voice was steadily rising and though she'd never really seen him mad, she knew he was on the verge of freaking out.   
  


Summer winced. She reached for his hand but he recoiled. "I know-"   
  


Seth cut her off, taking a step back. "No, you know what, just go."  
  


"Cohen."  
  


The stage manager whizzed by again. "Ten minutes, guys." Neither took heed to her warning.  
  


Summer took a step forward, hoping her eyes conveyed all that she was feeling. Regret. Shame. Hope. "You're the one that got me started on this whole thing. Cohen, this means something to me." This time when she reached for his hand, he let her take it. "You told me yourself what I want matters... well, I want this."  
  


Summer watched his eyes change. The harshness left them and they were flooded with sympathy and remorse. "Yeah, no, you're right, go. God, I'm _such_ an ass. I shouldn't have... I was being selfish. Come 'ere." Seth pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "And hey," he whispered, kissing her on the cheek. "Good luck."  
  


Summer stood on her tip-toes and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Thanks."  
  


"Well, I've gotta-"  
  


"Go," Summer finished, rubbing her thumb on his bottom lip to get rid of the lipstick smudge she'd left. "Break a leg," she said, her head cocked to the side, her hand striking out and hitting him playfully in the arm.  
  


Seth grabbed his arm and pretended to be hurt. "Or an arm."  
  


"Cohen."  
  


"Eight minutes!"  
  


"I better..."  
  


"Yeah." Summer watched Seth walk away, his shoulders slumped, and then slipped out the back exit pushing the guilt down.

__________

To be continued....


	13. 13

Seth Cohen = perfect? I know that's probably the hugest flaw in this fic (among many, lol), but it's just not in me to make him mean, or not even mean, but anything other than "perfect." lol I haven't been able to find an angle in anything I've written to truly make Seth anything but good-hearted...that may be my next challenge. I'm not sure who "us" are --and scream into your pillows, it won't freak as many people out that way-- (yeah, I'm lame) but you may have just changed the direction of this story... lol Nah, maybe my next fic I'll make Seth this evil guy. Oy! So, if you will, forgive me. I think I went a little overboard with the fluff and sappiness with this fic, but it probably won't happen again for a while.  
  


I left this a little open ended, just in case.   
  


Oh, God. I am such a sap!  
  


Thanks for the reviews and again, I'm sorry for making people want to scream. :( :p lol   
  


_______

Seth felt sick. He'd just basically made the girl he _supposedly_ loved feel guilty for wanting to follow her dreams. Yeah, in the asshole race, he was coming in first.   
  


Checking his watch, he saw he had about seven minutes to get some much needed advice before the curtains went up and he was due on stage, starring opposite some total...and if wasn't so worried, he could think of a good insult; the point was he had to act opposite someone who wasn't Summer, while Summer schmoozed at some high-class art gallery, nerve-wracked and probably more than a little freaked out. Yeah, he definitely needed advice.  
  


Sneaking out from backstage, he stealthy moved about the aisles, seeking out Ryan. Finding his pseudo-brother attached at the lips to Marissa, he didn't even bother with common courtesy of clearing his throat. He tapped -punched- Ryan on the shoulder and ignored the Death Glare he received from Ryan and the flustered look Marissa sent him, too. "Ryan, man, I screwed up."  
  


Ryan wiped his mouth and turned in his seat. "That doesn't surprise me," he said, his voice monotone.   
  


Seth crouched down. "No, listen. Remember that art thing I told you about? The contest thing Summer entered? Yeah, well, it's tonight and being the self-centred jerk that I am, I got mad at Summer for wanting to go to it. I mean, I know she was not as into this whole play hoopla as I was, but I know she was having fun, and of course if it came down to this or being able to create my very own comic book or video game or something of that nature, I would so bail, and I don't know why I didn't just say that, but I didn't, so now I let her go on her own and I'm a total sleaze. So, what should I do?"  
  


Seth ignored the blatant look of distain Marissa shot him and focussed on the stoic glare Ryan was partial to. "Do you even have to ask?"  
  


Seth held his index finger to his lip. "Right. Just tell my mom and dad... ah, screw it, I'm wasting time, tell them whatever you want."   
  


Seth rushed back up the aisle and to the make-shift dressing rooms. It took him two minutes to peel the costume off his body and to get dressed in his own clothing. He didn't care if his shirt was on backward or he seemed to be missing a sock, he had already wasted enough time.  
  


Spotting Devon milling around, he thrust the costume at him. "Here."  
  


Devon, who had been leaning on a table, stood and examined the clothing. "What the hell's this?"  
  


Seth couldn't be bothered with being intimidated, even though his eye still bared a yellowing bruise inflicted by the bigger boy. "The costume for Ethan. I need you to take my place."  
  


"It's opening night!" Devon looked at him like he was some maniacal lab rat. The theme for Pinky and the Brain began to play in Seth's head.   
  


"I'm well aware."  
  


Devon shook his head. "I don't get it."  
  


"You don't have to get it. Just go out there and don't forget your lines."  
  


Devon tilted his chin up and narrowed his eyes. "Why're you doing this, Cohen?"  
  


Seth shook his head, let out a strange laugh. "You wouldn't understand. Now, go change. Oh, and this is just for tonight, the rest of the week the lead is mine." Seth didn't wait for Devon's reaction, he was on a mission and nothing was going to get in his way.  
  


_________

Kirsten and Sandy were late. Extremely late. Their little boy was all grown up and performing in the highschool play and they were late. And they really didn't have a good excuse. It wasn't Sandy's fault that his wife was so damn irresistible. Nor was it his intention to have a quickie after seeing Kirsten getting ready and dabbing perfume behind her ears. There were just some things a red-blooded American male could not resist and a half-dressed woman was one of those things. So yeah, they were late and the lights were already down and the auditorium was packed, but Ryan had promised to save seats if he and Marissa got there first, so Sandy really didn't get what the problem was.   
  


"Do you see Ryan?" Kirsten whispered as they made their way down the aisle. It was difficult to see in the darkened room.  
  


Sandy strained his eyes and searched the crowd. "No. You?"  
  


"No. Oh wait, there he is." Kirsten pointed out the two teens glued together at the lips. "Should we?"  
  


"It's your call, honey. Maybe we should just find other seats and let them get their mack on."  
  


"Get their what?"  
  


"It's a hip way of saying making out. Jeez, you've been spending way too much time at the office, you've got to get with the times."  
  


"Shh!" Someone behind them whispered angrily.  
  


"Sorry," Kirsten apologized and took Sandy's hand.   
  


They walked together to the row Ryan and Marissa occupied, still immersed in each other. Sandy cleared his throat, a smile on his face. Nothing happened. Kirsten elbowed Sandy in the ribs and looked at him pointedly. Dropping her hand, he held out his own in front of him. "Okay. Okay." Tapping his adopted son on the shoulder, he watched Ryan pull away from Marissa and her eyes open in confusion. Marissa gasped and her face reddened. Ryan turned around and looked up at Sandy and Kirsten sheepishly.   
  


"Uh..."  
  


Sandy shook his head and laughed, receiving disapproving looks. Kirsten looked more sympathetic. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Has it started yet?"  
  


Ryan turned in his seat, as far away from Marissa as he could possibly get. "Seth didn't call you?"  
  


Kirsten looked between Sandy, Marissa and Ryan alarmed. "No, what happened?"  
  


"Oh, nothing...just, well, Seth's not exactly going to be performing tonight."  
  


"Stage fright?" Sandy asked.  
  


"No, actually. See, Summer had this art thing and so she couldn't act in the play, so she went to that, and of course, Seth being Seth couldn't go on without her, so he followed her there."  
  


"It was so romantic," Marissa supplied, dreamily.  
  


"I think he gets that from me," Sandy offered proudly.  
  


Kirsten and Ryan rolled their eyes.  
  


"Oh yeah, a regular Casanova you are."  
  


"Need I remind you why we're late?"  
  


"Sandy!" Kirsten admonished, her face now going a similar shade of red Marissa's had just been.  
  


Ryan looked horrified. Sandy only took up his wife's hand and gave it a little kiss. Kirsten couldn't help but smile.  
  


"I guess there's no use in staying then," Kirsten looked up at the stage where two unknown teenagers had just taken up the centre. "You kids have fun."  
  


"Yeah, and stay out as late as you want," Sandy interjected, ignoring the pointed look of disapproval Kirsten gave him.  
  


"Bye," Marissa and Ryan said in unison. 

"See, this is really a blessing in disguise," Sandy was saying as they disappeared into the darkness. "Now we can go home and..."  
  


Ryan didn't care to hear the rest and turned to Marissa who had laced her fingers with his.  
  


"That's totally going to be Seth and Summer fifteen years from now."

Ryan nodded. "That's really a scary thought. Poor Seth, he's going to be so whipped. So... where do you think we'll be in fifteen years?"   
  


"Hopefully together," Marissa whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.   
  


Ryan smiled and squeezed her hand. He could live with that.

_________

Summer chewed on her lip. All the paintings had been revealed and she'd had a chance to look at everyone else's work. There were a lot of talented people entered and her hopes were beginning to wane. She'd phoned her father and left a message about the change of plans, not that she had expected her father to come to the play anyway. He'd told her he was too busy dealing with legal mumbo jumbo and would be out of town yet again, but to take the credit card and buy herself something nice. She wasn't surprised. But still, there was still a part of her that wished she'd turn around and her father would be standing in the doorway and then he'd rush over to her and give her a hug and ask her to show him around. Of course, she wasn't naive enough to believe it would actually happen. Hell, the last time her father had hugged her she'd been ten and that was only because he was sending her to camp for the summer season even though she'd broken her arm the day before and wouldn't even be able to do any activities for weeks and because for one moment she let her weakness show and she shed a tear. She watched as her father and step-mother shared some secret look that she didn't fully understand but knew to be patronizing. It was the last time she cried in front of anyone. Well...until Seth Cohen came along.  
  


Sometimes there were parts of Summer that were divided between who she pretended to be and who she really was. It wasn't until she'd really let Seth in that she realized it was okay to let her guard down. She sighed. What she really wanted to do was cry and she really wasn't all that clear on why.  
  


The judging was about to take place and all the artists were corralled into a room that had refreshments and wine. After her last run-in with alcohol she wasn't too keen on drinking, so she got a glass of Mountain Dew instead, which was a bad choice since it reminded her of Seth. Looking around the room, she noticed everyone had someone but her. Proud parents. Supportive significant other's. Hell, one girl had her entire family, plus six friends. Summer had no one. She wanted Seth. And she wanted to cry.  
  


Giving into her pity party, she felt her eyes well up, and had to blink several times to believe the image that sprang before her. She blinked several times to make sure it wasn't an illusion. The figure at doorway was coming closer. Summer wiped her eyes and gasped as Seth materialized. "What are you doing here?"  
  


Seth cupped her cheek and let his thumb pull the wet drops from her face. "I came to support you. And looks like I got here just in time," he said, pulling her against his chest.  
  


"What about the play?" It came out muffled, but Seth seemed to understand.  
  


"It runs for a week, this art show is only for tonight. Besides the thought of kissing Tracy Shepard was even less appealing that kissing Luke."  
  


Summer pulled away, one perfect eyebrow raised. "I don't know whether to be scared or grateful."  
  


Seth laughed, shook his head. "Yeah, I dunno either."  
  


"I know you're mad and you have every right to be and I'm sorry I bailed, but this is important to me-"  
  


Seth's fingertips danced up and down her back. "Shh. Hey, I'm not mad. I mean, do I look mad?" She shook her head no.   
  


They stared into each other's eyes and it was as if she was looking down on herself and not really there, because people as sweet as Seth Cohen did not really exist on earth. At least that's what she always believed. 

"And in second place," the announcer was saying, "'Caught by Isolation' by Summer Roberts." 

It was an abstract painting. The background was blue with beautiful swirls of saffron and sandalwood creating a chaotic cyclone effect. In the centre was what appeared to be a lone figure caught up in the storm. Everyone was clapping and she was vaguely aware of people congratulating her and Seth pulling her against him, but all she felt was numb and she couldn't really breathe.   
  


She felt Seth guiding her to the podium to receive her prize money. A man took her slender hand and shook it, then gave her an envelope and a certificate with shiny gold leaf lettering done in calligraphy. Turning around, she was aware of more applause and she managed a smile as she walked back to where she had been standing. She stopped for a second, looked at Seth and then kept walking all the way out of the gallery. Seth was by her side in no time flat and asking her something she just couldn't grasp.  
  


"What?" she finally asked, realising she was shaking.   
  


Seth was smiling one of those big smiles he got every time something went right, like when he reached a new level on Playstation. "I said that you did awesome." His smile began to fade and his eyes weren't shining anymore, instead they were clouded. "What's wrong?"   
  


"I got second place." She didn't recognize her own voice and was only vaguely aware that she was holding something in her hand too tight and was making a soft crunching noise like when she walked over sand with flip-flops.  
  


Summer didn't miss the way his eyes changed from curious to concerned. "You got second place, that's huge!"  
  


Her throat felt tight and she knew there were tears running down her cheek and even if she wanted to, she really couldn't explain it. "It's not good enough. I didn't win."  
  


Seth shrugged, his hand tentatively reaching out and landing on her exposed shoulder. She shivered. "So you didn't win? So what? At least you tried and not many people are brave enough to do even that," he said, trying to be supportive.  
  


"I wanted to win, though. I just thought...I thought maybe... You don't understand." She turned from him and started walking down the dark street.  
  


Seth caught up to her and turned her around. "Then make me understand."  
  


Summer swiped at her eyes. Her vision was blurry, but she could still see the desperation etched on Seth's face. "I wanted to win. I wanted to be able to say, for once, that I was good at something."  
  


"Sweetie, you're good at so many things, especially art."  
  


"I wanted to..." Summer lost eye contact and shrugged. "I want to prove something." She waited a beat and then said: "to my Dad."  
  


Seth took hold of her shoulders and bent down so his eyes were level with hers. His fingers were warm, not really rough but not overly soft either. "Summer, listen to me, you don't have to prove anything to anyone but yourself. I'm proud enough for the both of us, and if your father doesn't understand what this -your art- means to you... well then, screw him!"  
  


"I wish I could say to hell with him. I wish I could say his opinion doesn't matter, but it does. It mat-ters so mu-ch," she hiccupped, "I just... I wa-nt... I want him to love me."   
  


"Come 'ere," Seth coaxed, pulling her against him and cradling her neck in his large hand. "You don't deserve this, Summer. No one should treat their own child like this."  
  


She could feel the lump in her throat pull and tighten like a snake slowly suffocating her. There were too many emotions in her head to make sense of anything, but she knew, somewhere she knew, she loved Seth more than she had ever loved anyone or anything and that thought scared the shit out of her more than disapproval from her father, more than the fact that her mother walked out on her and maybe because of her.   
  


Summer felt drained. "I want to go home, Cohen. Just take me home."  
  


Seth nodded, letting her lean heavily on his side as they made their way to the Range Rover he'd haphazardly parked out front of the gallery.  
  


_________________

Seth took Summer's keys and slid them into the lock in her front door. He pushed it open when he heard it click and gently coaxed Summer inside.   
  


"No one's home?" Seth said.   
  


"No one's ever home," Summer said tersely, snorting.

Seth's heart ached for Summer. He'd never known that kind of pain. His parents had always been there for him. Always. "Do you want to just go to my house? No one will mind."  
  


Summer let go of his hand and stepped out of her shoes. "No. No, I'd rather wallow in my own misery in my own bed."  
  


"Summer."  
  


She didn't even bother to turn and look at him. "Please don't tell me not to think so negatively, Cohen. I don't want to hear that...at least not tonight. Just let me be as miserable as I want tonight, okay?"  
  


Seth came up behind her, his hands dropping to her delicate shoulders, his lips meeting the softness of her hair. "Okay," he whispered and let his hands travel down her arms and hook around her waist.   
  


They stood like that, gently swaying, as if to music, for a few minutes. Seth didn't want to move and Summer didn't seem to want to, either.   
  


"Seth?"  
  


"Hmm?"  
  


"You're not going to leave, are you?"  
  


Seth rested his head on her shoulder and kissed her neck. "Not if you don't want me to."  
  


"Okay, good," she said, moving her head and rubbing her cheek against his.   
  


"How do you think Devon and Stacy made out with the play?"  
  


Summer stilled in his arms. "The play. I almost forgot." Summer turned, Seth still holding onto her, so they faced. "I'm sure they did okay."  
  


Seth kissed the tip of her nose. "No, see, you're supposed to say they did horrible. That no one plays Ethan and Emma as well as we do. That they don't have any chemistry and the whole audience walked out by the second act."  
  


Summer laughed, a real laugh. "Okay, whatever you just said times two."  
  


"That's my girl. Oh, and Mr. Birdman probably had a canary."   
  


Summer shook his head. "If you were going for funny, you missed."  
  


"Ouch. No one appreciates my comedy like you do, Summer."  
  


"What can I say, Cohen, I have standards and that just wasn't funny. You're slacking."  
  


"I just can't think with you this close."  
  


"Oh, then let me help you think more clearly," she teased, wriggling out of his arms.  
  


Seth caught her and pulled her back for a hug. "That just makes it worse."  
  


Summer lifted her hand to Seth's neck, let her fingers tangle in his curls and made him bend forward until their foreheads were pressed together. "Seth?"   
  


"Hmm?"  
  


"Are you sure you're not mad about missing opening night?"  
  


"Not at all," he answered, stealing a kiss.  
  


"Seth?"  
  


"Uh-huh?"   
  


"Let's go to bed."  
  


Seth's eyes popped open. He stared down at Summer and noticed her eyes were dark and her skin was flushed. Instead of waiting for a response, Summer took Seth's hand and led him through the kitchen and into her bedroom.

___________________________________  
  


Seth was going for stealth when he opened the front door and entered the house, but even his muted steps couldn't stop his father from openly glaring at him, arms folded across his chest and a bemused scowl on his face, from his place in the front hall.   
  


"Where have you been?" Sandy asked, his voice surprisingly hushed.  
  


Seth's eyebrows knitted together. "Whoa, are you mad?"  
  


"You're darn right I'm mad. You spent the whole night away from this house and didn't even call. What do you have to say for yourself?"   
  


"I was...with Summer. Perfectly good explanation. You're going to completely understand after I give you all the facts," he replied, holding a hand up to silence his father who found no humour in it. "See, there was the play, but then, there was the art show and Summer, well she sorta needed to go to the art show and of course, I couldn't let her go alone. Then, she got second place, which I thought was great, but her? Not so much. So yeah, turns out the whole thing was about her dad and proving herself. So then, she was just distraught...you know, with the tears and you know how I hate when girls cry, so naturally I couldn't leave her alone. So clearly I made the right decision. I mean, what was I supposed to do?"  
  


Sandy remained unmoved. "I was worried sick."  
  


"I'm sorry. Really, I am, but Summer needed me. You would've done the same thing." 

Seth straightened, mimicking his father's stance, trying to remind him just how alike they were; Seth really was his spitting image. It was hard to stay mad at someone who reminded him of himself and Seth played it for all it was worth.   
  


Sandy took in a deep breath, visibly relaxing; he let his hands fall to his side. "That still doesn't excuse the fact that your mother and I had no idea where you were."  
  


Seth frowned. "Is mom as upset as you?"  
  


"Fortunately for your mother, she fell asleep before I began to worry."  
  


Seth nodded, a little too enthusiastically. "Awesome."  
  


Sandy waved his finger at his boy. "Not awesome, son. I was up the whole night and now I've got a meeting to go to, but don't think this little chat is over just yet."  
  


"Sure, dad. Whatever you say." Seth rolled his eyes.  
  


"I'm serious, Seth."  
  


"I know. Did you hear me denying that fact?"  
  


Sandy shook his head. "Wait until I tell your mother."  
  


Seth panicked. Clearly, they both knew Kirsten was more of a disciplinarian than Sandy was. "Come on, pops. She'll ground me. I hate being grounded. No Playstation. No television. No comics. It's not fun. I'll get bored and you know what happens when I get bored? I get chatty. Yep, you tell mom, and there'll be a whole lotta chatting happening around you. And I don't just mean sometimes, I mean all the time. Think about it, dad. Me, talking. All. The. Time." Seth smiled, letting the information marinate.   
  


Sandy eyes grew huge. And just as Seth expected he was singing a different tune when he spoke again. "Your mother really doesn't need to know about this, but we're still going to have that talk."  
  


"You won't hear me complaining."  
  


Sandy grabbed his briefcase and pulled on the door handle and then he turned back to Seth. "Remember you said that. I've got to go, I'm going to be late for my meeting."  
  


Seth scratched behind his ear, just as a yawn claimed him. "All right, but you're still going to make it to the play tonight, aren't you?"  
  


"You're going to be in the play this time, right?"  
  


Seth laughed weakly. "Yes, dad, no last-minute art shows this time. Although if Marvel calls, I'm so out of here."  
  


Sandy smiled, ruffling Seth's hair. "I'll be there then... With the video camera. And maybe I'll invite your grandfather and Julie, I'm sure they'd like to see it."  
  


"Dad!" Seth called after him.  
  


"Son!" Sandy mocked throwing his briefcase in the back and getting into the drivers seat. He started the car and gave a wave. Seth watched until the car was out of sight before he closed the door and headed to his room to shower.

_________

The boardroom was hot. There seemed to be a layer of tension heavier than fog that hung in the air and made Sandy's mouth feel dry. He looked across the table, sitting opposite him Ian Roberts was the picture of calm. Sandy rolled a pen between his fingers as he read through the terms of the settlement, making sure everything was in order.   
  


Signing on the dotted line, Sandy cleared his throat and slid the paper toward the other man. "I'm glad we could settle this so quickly."  
  


Mr. Roberts scrawled his name and looking up, smiled at Sandy. "I can't waste months locked up in court, settling is, inevitably, always easier."   
  


Sandy nodded slowly. "That's one way to look at it." He'd never been a man to judge, but what Seth had said to him the other day and that very afternoon was really weighing on him. What kind of a man leaves his teenage daughter alone all the time, knowing she's afraid? Sandy was also not one to hold his tongue. "I don't know if you are aware of this or not, but our kids are dating."  
  


"It's hard to keep up with Summer these days." Mr. Roberts took out a cigar from his suit jacket and offered it to Sandy, which he declined.   
  


"My son is Seth."  
  


"That's right. I've met him. Seems like a nice kid."  
  


"He is," Sandy said, his voice tight. "So is your daughter." He looked at Ian and waited for a reaction, but the only thing he got was a strange faraway look in the other man's eyes.  
  


Sandy took his job as a parent very seriously. Too often he'd seen good kids turn into bad seeds after being neglected or abused. From the first moment Seth was born, he knew being a parent was the toughest and most rewarding job in the entire world and like all jobs, not everyone was cut out to do them. Ian didn't seem like a particularly mean man, but he didn't seem quite ready to take his parenting responsibilities for what they were. It had been the same with Dawn. And everyday he thanked her for realizing she wasn't up to par and bestowing upon he and Kirsten a beautiful responsibility.   
  


Sandy knew that kids fell through the cracks and sometimes good kids, kids like Ryan or Summer, got the shit end of the stick in the parenting department. Those were the people that needed him to fight for them. It was partly the reason he'd become a public defender and though, it had been months since he'd been working there, he still could recognize that not all was right in the Roberts' household. "I know it's not my place to say, but I'm going to say it anyway: what are you doing, man? You've got a beautiful daughter-"  
  


"Hey, stay out of my business." Mr. Roberts' eyes flashed with anger. "I don't need you to tell me how to raise my girl." He stood, picking up his briefcase and heading for the door.  
  


Sandy stood and trailed him, planting a firm grip on his forearm. Sandy was not a man that lost his temper easily, but he was on the verge. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively calm, even though underneath he was seething. "See, that's the thing, you're not raising her, she's raising herself."  
  


Mr. Roberts pulled out of Sandy's grasp. He stepped closer, his eyes dark. "You've got a lot of nerve."  
  


Sandy refused to back down, refused to look away. "And you've got a daughter who's hurting and you can't even see it."  
  


Mr. Roberts looked away, disgust weighing heavily on his shoulders. He walked back over to the table and pulled out a chair, letting his briefcase drop to the floor. "I don't think I need to tell you things have been difficult since Summer's mother left."  
  


"It's been nearly eight years, Ian."  
  


"I'm not trying to make excuses. I know it's been a long time and I know I've been doing the wrong thing, going on business trips just to avoid...life."  
  


"At some point you're going to have to stop running."  
  


"It's just so hard. I don't want to lose her. I know I wasn't a good husband and I know I'm not a good father, but I loved my wife and I love my daughter... I just... I don't know how to show her. When Summer's mother left, I was just so afraid of screwing up. I blamed myself and Summer, well she was so young..."  
  


"She's grown up, Ian. She's grown into a beautiful, intelligent young woman and you missed it. Don't let another eight years go by before you reach out."  
  


"What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to reconnect? I don't know her anymore."  
  


"You could start by coming with me to see a play tonight."  
  


"How's that-"  
  


"A play your daughter is in."  
  


"She's in a play?"  
  


"Yeah, it's at the school," Sandy said, checking his watch. "I'm going there now. You can ride with me if you want."  
  


"I don't know. Do you think she'd want me there?" His eyes were pleading.   
  


Sandy rested his hand on the other man's shoulder. "From what my son tells me, there isn't anything she'd want more."  
  


"Okay," he said. "Okay."  
  


_________________________

Summer leaned against the stairs, looking up at Seth, their hands entwined, swinging between them. "I've never seen you this quiet. Cohen, are you- you're nervous!"  
  


Seth stilled their hands and took on a defensive, if not comically nervous, stance. "I am not, I just don't have anything to say."  
  


Summer smiled, smugly. "You never have anything to say, but that doesn't prevent you from talking."  
  


Seth brought their hands up and flicked her nose ."Look who thinks they're a comedian again."  
  


"Aww, I think it's cute."  
  


"Yeah?" Seth asked, his grin lopsided.   
  


"Yeah."  
  


"Well, good, 'cause I was thinking if you give me a little kiss I might feel a smidgen better."  
  


"No."  
  


"No?" he whined.  
  


Summer shook her head, playfully. "You'll just have to wait for the play."  
  


"Those are stage kisses, Summer."  
  


Summer's nose scrunched up, her eyes sparkled. "You're greedy."  
  


Seth's lips pursed together. "And?"  
  


"You're impossible," she said, rolling her eyes.  
  


"I know it, so you might as well just kiss me, because we both know how long I can keep this up, my tasty snicker-doodle."  
  


"What?" Summer laughed.  
  


"I was testing out a new pet name. You don't like it?"  
  


"Not really, Cohen."  
  


"Then what would you suggest?"  
  


"There they are," Sandy said, gesturing to the front of the auditorium where Seth and Summer were standing.   
  


At that moment, Summer looked up. Beside Mr. Cohen was...  
  


"Daddy!?"  
  


Seth leaned in. "Kinda kinky, but okay, we can go with that."  
  


"No. There." Summer pointed, dropping one of his hands. "He's here."  
  


Seth's eyes hardened.  
  


Mr. Roberts tentatively took a few steps toward his only daughter. "I just wanted to wish you good luck, sunshine."  
  


Summer was taken aback. "You haven't called me that since... since before mom left."  
  


Mr. Roberts sighed, his eyes dark and a little glossy. "I haven't done a lot of things I should have since then, but I want to try. I-I've really screwed up."  
  


Summer was silent. She was pretty sure she was squeezing Seth's hand too tight, but her grip wouldn't loosen.  
  


"It's not going to be easy. I-I'm stuck in my ways. I can't make up the time we've lost, but I'd like to try to start over, if-if you still want me in your life. Not that I deserve it," he finished.  
  


"I'd like that." Summer's voice was thick with emotion and when she heard Seth keen, she looked down at their interlocked hands and let go quickly. "Sorry," she said to him. It was going to be difficult and it would take time, but everyone was hopeful, especially Summer.  
  


Seth flexed his hand. "Word of warning, Mr. Roberts, Summer has these Rage Blackouts, yeah, you might want to steer clear of those." Summer glared at him. "Oh, hey, looks like one's coming on right now."  
  


Sandy slapped Mr. Roberts on the back. "We'd better find our seats. Why don't we all go back to our place after the show?"  
  


Mr. Roberts smiled and nodded. Seth gave the thumbs...thumb up, his hand was still sore and Summer looked at Sandy with so much admiration, he felt himself go all mushy, clearly he could see why his son had fallen in love with the girl.   
  


"Hey, you okay?"  
  


Summer nodded, for the first time in a long time she really did feel like things were going to be okay. "I just... what do you think your father said to him?"  
  


Seth shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But my dad can be pretty cool when he wants to be," he said with pride. "Are you going to be okay for a minute? There's Ryan and I have to talk to him."   
  


Summer nodded, still reeling.   
  


"Okay. I'll be right back." 

_  
  


Mr. Roberts and Sandy passed Marissa on the way to their seats. She smiled at them both and tried to hide her shock. When she finally got to Summer, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Holy shit, your dad's here!"  
  


"I know," Summer said, smiling.   
  


"That's...wow."  
  


"I know. I think I love Mr. Cohen right now."  
  


"Don't let Seth hear you say that, he might get jealous."  
  


Summer laughed.   
  


"My dad wanted me to give you this," Marissa said, presenting Summer with an envelope.  
  


Summer opened it and peered inside. "It's a cheque."  
  


"He sold your photo for the campaign. They loved his idea so much, he got a promotion and a raise. Next month your picture is going to be in every magazine from Good Housekeeping to Cosmo," Marissa prattled on enthusiastically.  
  


"Wow. That's great."   
  


"I-I took a look at the picture. I was really impressed. You've gotten really good. I guess I would have known that a while ago if I wasn't so wrapped up in myself and my problems."  
  


"We've been over this, Coop."  
  


"I know and I know you said it was okay, but it's not. Not really. I want us to be there for each other like we used to be...or at least I want to be there for you like I haven't been."  
  


"I'd really like that. I could use a friend, especially since everyone's shunned me since I declared that Seth Cohen was my...well, you know."  
  


"Well good, and hey, I like Seth...as long as he doesn't drag us all to a comic book convention."  
  


Summer shuddered dramatically. "Oh, don't even go there."  
  


Both girls began to laugh.   
  


"Ladies," Seth said, approaching them. "What's so funny?"  
  


Summer caught Marissa's eye and they began a new round of hysterics. Seth looked between them, puzzled. "Girls are so weird."  
  


"Yeah, we've got cooties, too." Summer rolled her eyes and grabbed Seth's hand. "Come on, we're supposed to be backstage. We better get there before Mr. Birdman has a heart attack." Seth waved to Marissa and let himself be dragged with a smile on his face.   
  


"See ya, guys. Good luck," Marissa offered and turned to go find her seat.

_____________ 

Behind the curtains Mr. Birdman was running around, frantically making last minute alterations to costumes and trying to get everyone settled, Seth and Summer looked on with amusement.   
  


The lights went up and the curtains pulled away. The first set of actors took the stage while Summer and Seth waited for their cue.  
  


"Go," the stage manager prompted, pushing them.  
  


The bright lights blocked out the audience, so all Summer and Seth could see were each other.   
  


"Ethan," Summer said curtly, turning her back to Seth as if to seem like they weren't conversing.  
  


"Emma," Seth replied, just as short.  
  


Summer examined her nails, sounding bored. "I didn't expect to see you here. Isn't a party like this below you?"  
  


"I came for the free food. And what about you, shouldn't you be trying to land some rich man so you can marry him and then poison him?" Seth replied as Ethan, smirking.  
  


Summer whirled around. "That's horrible. You're a mean, childish poser."  
  


"And you're a brat, so I guess that makes us even."  
  


Summer huffed and exited stage left, while Seth finished the rest of his lines.   
  


"You're doing great, Summer," Mr. Birdman praised, holding a handkerchief to his sweaty forehead.   
  


Summer smiled and watched as Seth took a pratfall, waiting for her next cue.  
  


Seth and Summer were not naive and they knew the reason half the people showed up was to see them fail. Seth had always been an outcast and Summer had lost some of her popularity through her association with him, but neither seemed to care and their dedication to the production, and each other, showed.  
  


Their synergy was undeniable. Seth and Summer worked the stage like pros, commanding the audiences attention. They had this great energy together; the ability to make fools of themselves one minute, forcing onlookers to break out in laughter, and then build suspense in the next.  
  


The crowd ate up their banter. The first kiss, a stolen one by Seth went by with applause and catcalls. The second kiss towards the fourth act was from Summer in retaliation. Both were relatively calm, pecks, really and were supposed to increase the tension that their arguing was creating. It was a typical love/hate relationship, one Seth and Summer were very familiar with and didn't have to stretch themselves to make it seem convincing   
  


The third kiss was the big one; it was supposed to be the dramatic climax where neither Ethan, nor Emma could deny the chemistry between them any longer. Again, not so much of a stretch for the pair.  
  


"I'm sorry I've been so horrible, Ethan," Summer exclaimed, clasping Seth's hand in her own.  
  


Seth smoothed his hand over Summer's cheek and smiled softly. "No need to worry about it now, Emma, my darling."  
  


This was it. Seth leaned in. Summer tilted her chin. The crowd seemed to melt away. And then Seth's lips were on Summer's. It was slow and warm and no acting was required.   
  


The crowd rang out in applause as the curtains came down and music swirled around them. When the audience refused to shut up, Mr. Birdman lifted the curtains again where Seth and Summer were still locking lips.   
  


Behind them, as the rest of the cast filled the stage, someone snickered. Finally the couple broke apart, looking dishevelled and more than a little flustered.   
  


"I guess it's over," Seth said.  
  


Summer nodded, unable to find words to speak just yet.  
  


Seth slipped his hand inside Summer's and took a bow. It was a complete rush. They exited the stage where everyone congratulated them.   
  


"Cohen!" Devon called, jogging over to Seth and Summer.  
  


Summer whirled around and faced her boyfriend's would-be tormentor. "Get lost, Devon. I'm so sick of hearing people talk trash about my boyfriend. There, I said it. Seth Cohen is my boyfriend and if anyone has a problem with that...well, it's just too damn bad. Deal with it!"  
  


"Uh, actually, I just wanted to tell Seth it was really cool what he did for me opening night and that you guys were really good. And that I've been a jerk and I wanted to say I'm sorry."  
  


"Oh."  
  


Seth smiled, amused. "Thanks, man. Don't mind her, she's a little high-strung," Seth said, excusing them. "Aren't ya, sweetie?" he asked, leaning down and kissing her forehead.  
  


Summer smiled. "Ew! Shut up, Cohen. People can hear you."  
  


"Shutting up, my rosy peach."  
  


"Cohen!"  
  


"Yes, sugar-lips?"  
  


"Ugh...nevermind...my little..." Summer struggled to find an appropriate nickname. Finally, she gave up and shook her head. "I'm not good at this."  
  


Seth reached out and moved a stray piece of soft hair behind her ear. "Cohen's fine, I like Cohen."  
  


"Okay. Cohen," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a tight hug.  
  


"That's what I like to hear my little snuggle-bunny."  


_______________

THE END!

phew! 

I usually don't put notes at the end, but for those feeling ripped off that they didn't get some Seth/Summer lovin', it's just because I wanted to keep this basically PG-13, but if people want, I might write the scene that might have happened when Seth stayed over. If I decide to write it, it will probably be posted in the R section. 

I hope no one was disappointed with the ending. Thank you all so much for the reviews. This was a challenge for me, since I usually only write one-part fics. In case I ever decide to do another one of these, I am just curious as to what people liked or didn't like about this fic. Did you have a favourite part? Were certain things too unrealistic? Or any other comments, Please let me know in a review or an email ( Lame_Trickster@hotmail.com). Thanks!  



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